


Go With The Flow

by Hexxie



Category: One Piece
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, I'm sorry this is straight, Investigations, Mild Language, Romantic Comedy, Strong Female Characters, Whatever is this?, is this angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-09-24 05:37:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20353267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexxie/pseuds/Hexxie
Summary: 'I knew you were up to no good,' he bellowed after they removed their chador off, revealing a short, pink hair. In hearing his threat, she turned her head and opened her eyes wide.'Fuck!' she swore out loud. She nearly tripped while trying to run away in her remaining long robe.What's a good investigation story without a good and a bad cop? What about a good cop and a quirky criminal? Our main characters are to sort out their differences for the greater good. Thrown in into a mission, they will be accidentally involved in something much bigger: mafia, Devil Fruits, arson... you name it.





	1. Feet don't fail me

In the middle of the crowd, the rapscallion blinked suspiciously.

There was a person, all covered in countless fabrics, made of different shades of a yellow tinted white. Their clothing was nothing out of the ordinary in Rainbase; their behaviour, however, was. Unlike the rest of the mob, who came and went, they were still, with their arms crossed on their chest and their back leaning on a wall. People all around were getting groceries, or stopping to dedicate a few words to somebody else. But the person stood there in silence. So the rapscallion stared in curiosity.

The stranger noticed his eyes set upon them, and the rascal thought he saw a glimpse of a smile. A small gesture of their head confirmed it: they knew somebody was watching, and they didn't have a problem with it. Drinking the last drops off his bottle of rum, he left the empty vessel on the floor and finally got back up. He felt the urge to strecth his knees and go looking for his partners.

'I could swear it, Tashigi,' he heard a voice somewhere close. 'That individual eyed me back defiantly. They are up to something.'

'You know that's not necessarily true, boss,' her partner answered. The rapscallion noticed a couple of drunkards who were getting heated by the minute. Things were to blow somewhen, and his curiosity remained vibrant. He knew he wasn't in actual danger, so staying would only bring him potentially useful information he'd share with his partners afterwards. 

'You give that back!' one of the drunk men barked at the other. His nose was visibly red, and his eyes were barely open. Still, he showed open hostility. The rascal snorted to himself:

'As if you could even stay up for a whole minute like that.'

On the other hand, the smaller Marine stretched her back a little to see over the crowd. In overhearing the start of the hostile exchange, both the Marines got ready to jump to action.

'I wont!' the other drinker yelled back. ''Tis mine: you gave it to me.'

'You bastard...!' the first one threatened to start the fight, reaching out for his pocket while barely on both his feet. As the grey-haired Marine tried to approach the men in the middle of the stir, an explosion was heard. People started screaming, some ran into each other comically. The drunk men took advantage of the sound to get their fight started, as if two cowboys waiting for the right moment to draw their weapons, only they weren't as graceful, and had decided to punch, bite and kick each other.

'Shit!' the taller Marine cursed at the air. 'You go stop the drunkards, I'll go check whatever the hell that was!'

With a nod, his partner took off, trying to calm people as she tried to reach for the drunk men. The rascal felt pumped up. Whatever was going on in that street, he wanted to know. While avoiding the annoying running and screaming horde of civilians, he reached for his weapons and tried to reach a more comfortable place.

Smoker tried to run as fast as he could, but many people panicked and ran in the opposite direction, making it harder for him to reach the location of the explosion. The fight against Crocodile had been ultimately beneficial to everyone living in the whole of Alabasta, but it left people scarred. No one wanted to live through another war break out, and any kind of scary event immediately got them on their toes.

'Damn!' he yelled, dissolving his lower body into thin, grey smoke. He flew above the panicking crowd and got a better look of the situation.

A column of a darker fog was slowly emerging from a tall, white endemic building. Luckily, no one seemed actually hurt. However, his eye got a glimpse of an interesting vision: the person covered in white -who had cockily winked at him earlier, had climbed on a rooftop. While taking their robes off, they were eagerly trying to peek on the inside of the tower that blew up. It was as if they were searching for something.

'I knew you were up to no good,' he bellowed after they removed their chador off, revealing a short, pink hair. In hearing his threat, she turned her head and opened her eyes wide.

'Fuck!' she swore out loud. She nearly tripped while trying to run away in her remaining long robe.

'You're not getting away!' he warned as he flew towards her at full speed.

The girl took a long leap towards another rooftop, and finally got rid of the robe. She trampled on it as she ran. 'That shit sure is uncomfortable for this stuff!'

'Up for chitchatting, are you?' he yelled as he got closer. She turned back at him and breathed heavily.

'Maybe after a couple drinks!' she answered, jumping off the top of the house she was trespassing on. He stood above the edge of said building, trying to find her again in the disarray.

'There you are,' he whispered.

She jogged as fast as her legs could possibly manage to, and felt nearly out of air. 'Fuck me! Fuck my life' she exclaimed in between gasping. 'Why would there be a fucking Marine who could fly? Of course he can fucking fly.'

She didn't particularly like F bombs: they were sloppy and effortless. She found other curses a lot wittier. But it felt exhilarating, and no one was watching. Or was there?

It took her a couple seconds to find a place to hide: a nearly abandoned pub in a crossing alleyway greeted her, its entrance sign barely hanging from the top of the porch. She halted for a moment, covered under the wooden ceiling, and took a breath. Had she finally gotten away? A kid stared at her from behind a window up front. His jaw dropped when he saw the smoke coming from her hands, but she shook them and smiled awkwardly back at him.

'I'm okay, kiddo,' she explained. She had to take control of her powers someday. But it felt like every time she got overly excited, the magic shit tried to leak from her hands. She tried blowing part of the smoke away from her, but it remained, forming a cloud that got dense by the minute.

'Oh, hell, no,' she muttered to herself, but the smoke took the form of a hand, and the hand got a firm grip of her wrist. She tried to pull away from his grasp, but he was way too strong. His body had now formed back into a whole person, and he still kept two cigars in his mouth.

'Time to get serious', she whispered as she changed her stance. He quickly reached for his back, trying to draw some kind of sword on her, but she kicked one of his knees and headbutted his cigars into his mouth. Her foot went right through him as he was _mainly_ made of pure smoke, and she hated herself for forgetting about how Logia fruits worked. But the cigars were there, right inside his mouth. He spat and coughed in confusion, his teeth covered in tobacco.

'You should quit smoking, baby,' she suggested as she took advantage of the situation and formed a little layer of her own Logia material to chop his throat. But her hand couldn't get there on time, as he twisted her in his grip and held her wrist on her back. The more he pulled upwards, the more it hurt.

'What was that coming out of your hand?' he asked as she heard him unchaining some kind of metal thing from the back of his belt.

'Handcuffs this early? You're going too fast for me,' she argued as she let her wrist become the material of her fruit. He rapidly let go of her, as he growled in pain. In the distance, she could hear the trampling of some running creatures. It had to be the daily passing of the Super Spot-Billed Ducks. That was her way out.

'A Logia fruit?' he asked, but she had managed to recover and hit the side of his face with her scorching arm. Barely dodging it, he adopted a more defensive stance and, once again, tried to reach out for his Jitte.

'You're not drawing that on me!' she tried tripping him with both her legs, but he was way more trained than her, and her feet ran through him. She wasn't ready to use her powers yet. Things were happening too fast, but she kept trying to lose ground, so they would reach the main street in their fight. She landed a hit on him with her arm, burning part of his neck, but he grabbed her again and hit her right under her ribs.

'No technique. No Logia dodging. You're just a rookie, aren't you?'

Even when out of air and in pain, she threatened to burn him again with her free arm. He sighed as he physically dodged it, and turned his legs to smoke again to fly.

'Enough!' he growled. 'You're agile, but not experienced. Submit already!'

He finally got a hold of his Jitte, and in drawing it, he rapidly approached her. The noise of the stampede kept coming closer. She threw herself on the floor while dodging him, and jumped back up. 

'Not even in bed, darling!'

She jumped backwards, right on top of one of the supply sledges the ducks carried from town to town. They were faster than most animals, and lucky her, she got away in a speed that was unreachable for the Marine.

'What the...!' he snarled. Mumbling countless bad words to himself, he rushed to reach for one of the sledges, to no avail. He had to hurry up to get his motorcycle, which was parked back in a dust-covered highway. The ducks were just a sandy cloud in the distance by the time he started driving, but he could still get to them.

The woman kept laughing to herself, spitting out sand and dust, but her giggles were uncontrollable. She could barely see a thing behind her, although the city was becoming smaller and smaller in the distance. She tried to keep grasp on the cloth that covered the wooden boxes underneath her, and resolved to get off on Yuba. These ducks never got as far as Erumalu; nobody cared what happened on that ruin of a city.

While holding on to the cloth, she tried sitting up to put her protective goggles on and looked up the sky. The sun would be setting in a while, and she was better at hiding in the night.

The sound of a motor shook her back to reality.

She turned back in alert, and while trying to keep her hair off her face, she saw him. Of course he had a bike.

'Oh, really,' she whinged in despair. 'Why hath the wrath of the Gods fallen upon me.'

'No god here,' he shouted back, his weird weapon held on his right hand and the handlebars on the other. He launched a powerful strike, only to land on the crates, some of which broke to splinters. She had to let go of her clutch, and almost fell from the sledge. By the time he attacked again, she had no way to avoid the hit but to let go.

The ducks kept running, the motorbike drifted on its heels. Smoker turned to locate his target, only to find her face down on the vast sands of the desert. He slowed down a little bit. There was no way she was escaping now. Approaching her, he finally turned the motors off and got on his feet. But something was wrong in her.

The right half of her body was now being swallowed by the sands. She struggled to keep her head up, but the more she moved, the more she sank. Smoker closed his eyes in exasperation and walked as near to her as he possibly could without stepping on the quicksand. Grabbing his Jitte by the point, and cursing the moment that lady burnt one of his gloves earlier on, he stretched to offer her the handle of his weapon.

'Grab onto it.'

He could have offered her the side that was covered in seastone, but she needed the extra strength to hold onto it and get out of there. And... he could have just flown and grabbed her, but he didn't fully trust her enough. She could be planning something shady, for all he knew.

Nonetheless, she silently grabbed the Jitte and spat some sand out. Her body started to emerge from the quicksand as he pulled away, trying to ignore the weakening feeling the seastone was causing. Once both her legs were out, he pulled back a bit more to take her away from the wet patch of quicksand. She finally reached the drier sands, and laid on her back, letting go of the weapon. Smoker dropped the Jitte, and they both breathed in relief.

'Psyche!' she exclaimed.

By the moment he realised what was going on, she had grabbed him by his jacked and tried to pull him as strong as she could over her own body in a weird judo-like move. His seastone-induced weakness played against him, and he found himself falling face down on the quicksand.

'You gullible foreigner,' she said in between deep breathes of tiredness. 'How did you think quicksand works?'

She scrambled to get on her feet and tried to get a hold of the weird weapon again, only to find it was missing. When she turned to face him, she took a strong hit on her temple and fell to the sand. The metal touched her again, only to keep her pinned down by her neck, and Smoker, half human, half smoke, looked down at her.

'How did you think Logia fruits work?'


	2. No one knows

A few rays of sunlight fell down on her, sneaking through the wooden planks and cast upon her temporary cell. She was sitting on the floor, her knees held in her arms, awaiting for the moment she would not be alone anymore. Maybe, and only maybe, she could work her way out with words. But words are worthless without a listener.

Finally, after a few hours of nothingness, the grey haired man showed up. He (almost sardonically) offered her a hand in between the bars.

'The name's Smoker,' he simply stated. But the handcuffs were heavy, and she had no plans of moving her hands around whatsoever. Especially if it involved touching that man's skin.

'Good.'

'Is this your first time in bars?' he asked while withdrawing his handshake. She sniffed in response, and he snorted lightly while lighting another cigar.

'Your breath must be one of a kind,' she mustered. He inhaled and then let some of the smoke out of his nostrils.

'I am one of a kind, so it matches me,' he joked while crouching down to her level. 'You can make use of that bed, you know. You don't have to wander around the cage and pretend to be miserable.'

'Oh, thank you,' she answered even though she didn't move from her place. 'You know what could be helpful? You letting me out of this. You have no substantial proof that I did what you caged me for.'

'I think I'll start being of help after you. Why don't you begin by telling me _why_ you did that?'

'I just told you, you don't even know if it was me.'

Smoker held one of his cigars in his hand and sighed. 'Let me try out, then. I'm betting you're new to this. You just got your Devil Fruit, but you haven't got a hold of its powers yet. You can't really activate it anywhere but your arms. Even so, you feel the thrill in causing some havoc, because no one ever offered you help with your new state anyhow. Am I correct?'

One of the crew members who worked in the ship neared them and saluted his superior. The woman kept staring at a corner, away from her conversational partner. The lower ranked Marine handed her a plate full of food and a loaf of bread, and then left the cells.

She didn't even peer at her meal. Instead, she stood still. Fine trails of smoke came out of his cigars, swirling and dancing around the place.

'You know breaking the law is never that simple', she uttered eventually. He raised an eyebrow.

'You'd be surprised', he leaned back, making himself comfortable on the floor. 'But I'm taking it there is a, ulterior reason for what you did. And you need to tell me in order to help me _understand_. I can't really let you out otherwise.'

She blinked, deep in thought. Another long silence followed, and her soup ceased to produce steam.

'You should be eating,' he informed her. 'After all, you'll be here for a while.'

After all that time, she looked at him in the end in a mix of disappointment and surprise.

'You can't keep me here for long without a valid reason. Not for more than forty eight hours.'

'Oh,' he nodded. 'So you've been behind bars before, after all.'

'Not really,' she frowned, looking down at her meal at last. 'I've just... informed myself.'

He crossed his arms on his chest.

'Have you, though?' he asked her. 'How's this for a valid reason: you were on the crime scene, looking at the result of the explosion, whilst not running away from it. And you're able to produce some kind of... burning stuff. To some level, at least. Judging by your experience in the usage of your own Fruit, I would have thought it was an accident. But you'd have been freaking out if that was the case.'

She kicked on the floor and got up, her hands still tied. 

'I wont say a thing,' she argued. 'What are you going to do, torture me with that... weird staff of yours? It's not that bad, you know. I've had it worse.'

'Who do you think I am, some kind of gangster? I am part of the Marine force. I will not be torturing you.'

She wasn't even facing him anymore. She started bouncing one of her legs in nervousness, while facing the opposite wall. 

'But you need to eat,' he added.

'Oh, shut up!' she rolled her eyes in hostility. 'Just shut up.'

Smoker clenched his teeth, but got up and left. She turned back to check whether she was lonely again, and she sat in front of the bed, leaning back on it. But the Marine came back in a matter of minutes, carrying a blanket and a pack of cigars.

'What the hell are you doing,' she asked him. He took his place on the floor again, and tossed her the blanket.

'Isn't it obvious,' he replied. 'I'm staying here. You should use that, it gets chilly down here during the night.'

Darkness engulfed the room. It was late hours, and neither of them had moved from their initial position. Smoker had a couple cigars in his mouth, even when he wasn't really smoking anymore, and was slightly bent over to rest. She was still leaning on the side of her bed, which she refused to use. She had kind of dozed off for a few times, but hadn't really slept at all. And, in that dimness, she really couldn't tell whether her captor was asleep or not.

'That's not how mattresses work,' he remarked once again, revealing that he too was awake. They had kept silence for a long while, and the next time she opened her mouth to speak, words felt foreign to her. She used to be a very talkative person, but being caged kind of killed the mood.

'Hey, do you know any jail songs?' she asked him. 'I bet you do. You must have imprisoned many felonious blokes out there.'

He sighed and repositioned the cigars in between his teeth.

'No, I don't know any jail songs.'

'Let me sing one for us, then. To us.'

'You're not going to-'

'A MAN IS NO MAN BUT A PILE OF DIRT, SECRETS AND HARDSHIP,' she sang in a loud tone. Smoker clenched his jaw.

'Shut up,' he stood up to prevail over his prisoner, but her voice rang above his own.

'BUT WHAT IS HE WITHOUT HIS FREEEDOOOOMMM'

'Shut up!' he yelled in anger, startling her a little. Yet, she smirked back at him. 'You're not going to wear my patience thin. I'm used to irritating folks like you.'

She looked like she was in a better mood than before, but she wasn't singing anymore. He sat down on the floor again and collected himself.

'I have a ship full of hard-working crew members. I don't mind staying here for days, but they don't deserve to be awoken by your noisiness.'

'Alright,' she agreed, stretching her legs and arms like a cat. 'It's just you who I want to annoy, y'know.'

'You _have_ annoyed me,' he admitted. 'But I'm not leaving. I need a reason for what you did in Rainbase, and I know better than asking you directly anytime soon. Not again.'

She rubbed her nose in conflict. He was positive she wasn't as terrible as other criminals he had faced in the past, but there had to be a _why_. He didn't care about the _how_ anymore. Back in silence again, he then realised her plate was still full. His brow furrowed.

'You haven't eaten yet.' The woman's smile vanished, and she bit the insides of her mouth.

'Neither have you,' she noted. Smoker shook his head.

'I don't need to. But you're going to need the energy to deal with imprisonment.'

She gave him a befuddled look, and blinked twice.

'You're not going to put me in some big-ass prison back in one of your bases, are you?'

Smoker didn't respond.

'I just... _allegedly_ blew up some useless building nobody cares about!' she complained. His answer didn't come out yet, and her nervousness increased. 'It wasn't that serious! Throw me in a dungeon for a couple days and I'll have my lesson!'

He raised both his brows in disappointment and closed his eyes. 'Tell that to the person who died in the fire.'

'I-' she felt speechless. 'The _what?_'

Her hands shook in terror. She stood up and paced for a few seconds in disbelief. She had been checking the building for days, and she tried to make sure no one was injured after the incident. Her doing had been wrong, sure, but she definitely didn't mean to hurt anybody.

'All right, calm down,' he demanded. 'I lied. Nobody died in the explosion, but at least now I know it wasn't murder.'

Her heart skipped a beat, and she stared at him in incredulity. 'Are you for fucking real- no, don't even answer.'

Turning her back on him, she grabbed the blanket and laid on the bed to sleep. Or just to have an excuse to ignore him for a while longer. Marines sure knew how to get on your nerves. On the contrary, Smoker smiled to himself, and laid his back on a wall and got ready to get some rest.

The sound of ceramic against the wooden floor woke her up, and she turned to see the same guy from the day before handing her another plate. This time, it was full of some kind of dull oatmeal. Her soup still remained there.

She took a deep breath and sat in front of both the plates. Smoker was in his place too, at the other side of the seastone bars. And he looked at her with a blank expression. Or, at least, as blank as he could manage. That man always looked angry, for some reason.

Under his gaze, she carefully pushed both the plates and the loaf of bread out of the cage and let her heavy handcuffs rest on the floor. He growled in a low tone.

'What is this, some kind of hunger strike? You're not getting out like that.'

Her mouth strecthed in a fine line. She didn't really know why she was acting up, but all she really wanted was to be back home in her workshop, minding her own fucking business.

'Eat it,' she simply answered him. He laughed sardonically.

'You're a piece of work. You're weak, and caged, yet you refused to use your bed for half of the night, and now you're telling me to eat your meals?'

She stared at the floor, making it unable for him to discern her facial expression.

'Just eat it,' she asked him again. He snorted in denial. There it was: a weak point to exploit.

'I don't want to,' he replied, avoiding to tell whether he was hungry or not. She rubbed her temples, but still didn't look up. He then reintroduced all of the food inside her cage, and she sighed deeply.

'Please, just-' she began.

'I'm not playing games with you,' he noted. 'Just to make it clear. You're under my watch: this is my jurisdiction, and you're going to eat that whether I force it down on you or not. I'm not going to fucking have your meals for you.'

By the time she looked back up, her eyes were redder, but she put on a tough face and cleared her throat. She then silently tore the bread in half, ate the old soup plate and offered him the rest of the food, her face up in pride. He just closed his eyes and took his time to light another cigar.

'You know,' she began to explain in a soft voice. 'Telling you won't fix anything.'

He looked back at her with interest. She was finally slightly giving in to the circumstances, and he had to take advantage of that. In response, he obediently grabbed the already hardened loaf of bread and started eating the oatmeal.

'Why won't it?' he asked.

'Because,' her tone lowered, making it harder for him to clearly hear, 'you can't do anything about him.'

He quickly finished the plate of oatmeal, to her relief. She looked genuinely happy that he had eaten something, after what felt like more than thirteen hours of quarrel.

'Him,' he repeated after her, wanting to find out more. 'So that's your reason why. A "him".'

He didn't really have an idea of what was going on in the suburbs of Alabasta, but even after Crocodile left, crime always found a way to be reborn. 

'You know,' he told her, leaning over a bit. 'When you were asleep, I got this report. It dictated the findings of my subordinate on the building _you_ blew up. Apparently, and I don't know how much of this you were already counting on, the place was an old bank. But not only that. It was likely to contain endless documents and papers on old debts and big sales. Meaning, and this is when I'm on guessing field again, that somebody ordered you to destroy evidence on some transaction that took place prior to three years ago.'

She swallowed what felt like an enormous pill stuck in her throat. The man wasn't dumb, that was for sure. But she didn't enjoy the paths his wits were taking them. At last, he got back up and took a set of keys out of his pocket. Her eyes opened in confusion.

'I am going to get to the bottom of this,' he let her know while opening the door to her cell. 'And you're going to help me in the process.'


	3. The evil has landed

'Does this mean you're releasing me?', she asked the Marine after they got to step on Rainbase's land again. If that was the case, maybe she could find a way back home, and burn the seastone that gripped her wrists together in order to be free.

'Partly,' he answered. 'You still committed a crime, but just like you told me, it wasn't that serious. The building was abandoned, and the explosion caused no one no harm. No one that we know of, anyway. But, instead of going to prison for a few weeks, you've _freely_ decided to help me with the case.'

'Oh,' she answered in disappointment. 'I see. Not that I don't enjoy your bulky company, mate, but I can't be seen having peppy adventures with a Marine, you know. People will think I'm a snitch.'

'Well, snitch or not, you're under my protection,' he informed her. 'No one will be attacking you by my side.'

She looked past some sleazy-looking men who stared at the Marine in distrust. 'Are you sure about that, my friend.'

'Here we are,' he announced, looking at the white, tall building from the day before. He got closer and checked the first floor from the outside, trying to discern whether it was safe for them to step in. It looked robust enough: the fire had been momentary, and had only set documents and some furniture on fire. But the foundation appeared to be rock solid. 

He dragged her by the chain that kept her handcuffs under his control, and they both stepped in the first floor. It was a vast place: some vandals had written their names on the blackened walls, and at the end of the room, there were some kind of offices set behind a few bars. It was a classic bank at its finest. Why it had closed years ago, when it was based on the city of dreams and gambling, he had no idea.

He took a while to inspect the offices, only to find emptiness and ashes in them. Any piece of a document that had remained intact was probably taken by Tashigi herself hours ago. Even the chairs had been burnt, and some of the metal bars had melted into a dark mass.

'Geez,' he muttered. 'How can a short fire cause this?'

He turned back at her, only to find her looking otherplace with an innocent face. 

'Let's get to the second floor,' he commanded, and she reluctantly obeyed. They climbed the stairs, and Smoker lightly pushed an ashy door to open their way.

The second floor held nothing out of the ordinary, either. The fire had also reached for it, and for what he could tell, it used to be a place for storing receipts and reports. Working with money required a ton of paperwork, which he had always hated. He tried to open a dusty drawer, just in time for it to fall apart in a pile of ash.

'There had to be something in here that your boss thought was endangering him or his position.'

'Wait, come again?' she asked defiantly. She tried to cross her arms in defensiveness, but the handcuffs prevented her from doing so. 'He's not "my boss"; just some dude who I happen to... owe.'

'You owe him?' he asked while knocking on a table that missed a whole leg. 'Why, and what?'

'None of yer goddamn business,' she replied cockily. She neared him and lowered her tone. 'I told you: there's nothing you can do against him. He's got arms everywhere, and some Marines in his pocket.'

Smoker raised an eyebrow, and she cleared her throat. 'Marines, you say? That makes things much easier for me. I don't think any higher rank owes him a favour, or otherwise, he'd be a notable threat for everyone in Alabasta. He can't be that powerful.'

He turned around to keep inspecting the place. There was an empty frame on a wall, hanging in a crooked way, and he straightened it.

'He can't be as strong as Crocodile once was. Some of us would know about him, then. I can go around, making the right questions, asking the right people, and-'

He felt a pull on the chains he held, and looked back at her in confusion. 'Hey, where are you-'

She had climbed on a nearby window and eyed him back in worry.

'I'm sorry, Cap. I really am. But I can't stay here any longer. They will find out, and they'll go after us both.'

'What are you doing?' he asked. But she didn't stay to listen, and jumped out of the window. 'Shit!' he exclaimed, trying to keep a hold of the chain, which broke inevitably with the strength of her fall. He looked out the window, but she wasn't down there anymore. 'You suicidal dickhead! This is a high first floor!'

The veil of night fell upon the small village of Erumalu, and the stars shone with their usual nocturnal dance. The moon hid behind a single, thick cloud that covered part of the vast sky. Smoker had spent the rest of his day tracking his protegée's steps, and had finally traced her back to her own house. 

The city was half buried, and some of its buildings were so devastated by the passage of time that no one would have thought of them to be inhabited by anybody. Or, at least, anybody in their right minds. But there he was. Standing in front of a cylindrical, two-floor tower with a rusty, golden dome on top; he took a breath and finished a whole cigar in a matter of seconds.

After a while, he finally approached the front door. It wasn't even locked: instead, it opened easily under his hands with a creaking noise. Behind it, a couple of rosy-tinted curtains covered the entrance to what seemed like a round workshop. The room wasn't really spacious for belonging to the whole first floor: it must have been about four meters wide. There, he found a forge, a few metal tables and shelves stuffed with messily placed working supplies. There was a big piece of parchment on one of the tables, and some tools. And, in the middle of the disarray, there she was.

Surprisingly enough, she still had her handcuffs on, and he wondered how she could bear such a heavy task with them. She had a piece of yellow-looking metal held with some kind of pliers, but the moment he walked in, she left everything on a table and dried her face with a towel. 

'Tried to steal your bike,' she confessed without looking back at him.

'I figured you would,' he answered, hanging his coat by the door. The place was even hotter than a day under the sun of Alabasta. He walked a little closer and observed her. She wasn't able to use her Fruit or her hands like that, so she didn't pose much of a threat. 'But it works with my powers.'

She lifted her head in curiosity. 'That's brilliant. Why didn't I think of that?'

She sighed and leaned back on a nearby table, facing the Marine this time. 'I couldn't melt them. The handcuffs,' she informed him, sounding ashamed. 'I never care about the heat or even fires, but I can't really overcome a serious burn if I'm wearing this seastone thing.'

Smoker twisted his mouth, deep in consideration. The woman had been so scared of some guy, she had decided to jump off a building with her hands tied. Then again, he produced a key ring from one of his pockets, left his cigars on a table and walked up to her. She lifted her brow in slight surprise, and awaited to be freed of the heavy metal.

The handcuffs opened with an iron sound, and fell down at their feet. He'd pick them up later to attach them to his bike. He watched her wrists with interest, which were injured by the weight of the cuffs.

'Yeah, that usually happens...' he told her as he rubbed his nose. 'I'm sorry.'

'Are you kidding?' she asked him in an excited tone. 'I am free! I don't care about these flesh wounds.'

She then walked up to the forge, took her gloves off and dipped her hands deep in the melted metal. He cringed at the vision, even though he knew that couldn't hurt her anymore. When she took her hands out, her wrists looked much better.'

'Funny enough, this is very hydrating for me,' she notified him, and he nodded in response. 'It feels nice. I missed it. I hadn't used those gloves in, like, ages.'

'So that's it?' he questioned in surprise. 'You don't hate me for arresting you.'

'Of course not, you idiot,' she shook her head. 'It wasn't... pleasant, you know, but I'm fine now. I'm not _that _petty.'

His mouth curved downwards, a grimace on his face. He didn't understand why she wasn't mad about her detention. Still, she waited for her hands to fully dry from the melted metal and poked the handcuffs with one of her feet. 'This material is interesting, you know. I could melt that and form a new weapon, or some handcuffs that don't torture the wearer, or-'

'You're not melting anything,' he answered, snatching the handcuffs away from her. She laughed out loud. 'I'm taking these with me. These don't come in cheap.'

'Come on,' she begged jokingly. 'You're, like, financed by the Government, right?'

'Still,' he replied, walking away towards the front door. 'I'm taking these back. Wait.'

His coat wasn't where he left it just a few minutes earlier. He scrutinised the whole room in search for it, but it was nowhere to be found.

'Where,' he grumbled, 'is my coat.'

'Oh, your...? Oh, fuck,' she cursed, hurrying to reach the door. 'You left the door open, right? That must've been the kids.'

'You have kids?!' he exclaimed in disbelief. She furrowed her brow.

'No! What the heck? Of course not,' she shook her head while crossing the doorstep. 'It's just... some rascals that live a few blocks down. We'll get your coat back.'

Smoker growled in impotence and followed her in her way out. 

Their little journey felt awkward at first, but he kept silent. Walking through alleyways and passages, he got to see the rest of the devastated town. Some walls were half destroyed, and he wondered if there were people living inside all of those buildings. He spotted three civilians who were sharing tea inside a courtyard, but they ceased in their conversation to stare back at him. Whether their expressions were hostile, he couldn't tell in the dark.

'I thought this was an abandoned city,' he murmured with concern. The woman laughed it off.

'It was, indeed,' she started explaining while they took a corner. 'But some of us don't really have the money or the position to... live in a better place. So we tried to rebuild this place. It's going... well, you can tell for yourself. It's nice, though,' she smiled to herself. 'We are a strong community. We support each other.'

In the end, she halted in front of what looked like a mansion in shatters. Never would he have thought of it to have the capability of holding life inside its walls, but seeing the ways these people lived in the city, he wasn't surprised anymore. Instead, he felt sympathetic.

The woman neared the door and knocked in a weird manner: two quick knocks, three slower ones and an extra kick to the wood. He decided to lean on a nearby wall and wait for her to solve her business.

'Hey, kids,' she yelled for them to hear. 'You know who it is. Open up.'

A few childish giggles followed, and the door opened to her. Smoker heard what felt like the voices of two girls and a boy.

'What happened, Aya?'

'Are you okay, Aya?'

'Did the bad man hurt you?'

His eyes widened in hearing those words. Was he... the "bad man"?

'No, you idiots!' she denied it and took a few steps forward, walking in the room. 'I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?'

'But he was there!'

'Inside your house!'

'And your wrists look bad!'

The woman took a deep sigh and cleared her throat briefly.

'This is nothing, okay? I kicked his ass earlier. The redness on my wrists is... part of a game.'

'A game, you say?'

'What kind of game, then?'

'A sexual game?'

Both of the adults snorted in surprise.

'What th- what??' she asked, and the girl laughed out loud. 'You're not supposed to know about those! Okay, enough, give me his jacket.'

'No!' the three of the kids yelled in unison.

'How about this? You give it back to me, and I will write something fun on its back. Then, he will have it back. Something like... fart-ass.'

The kids laughed hysterically and ran around inside the house. Smoker shook his head, but turned another cigar on and waited.

'Okay!'

'That's a good idea!'

'We were to burn it anyway!'

Some incoherent words followed, and the lady waved the kids goodbye. Once they closed the door, she looked at him and smirked.

'All yours,' she declared while handing him his garment. The man raised one of his eyebrows and took a puff of his cigars, nodding in thankfulness. Taking a moment to put it back on, he decided not to let go of it if they were to stop by her workshop again, even though it was warm as Hell on earth. He closed his eyes in relief.

'Hey, how about we catch a drink,' she suggested, scratching the back of her head. 'I know a place. Well, it's the _only_ place in Erumalu, but that makes it the best one too, right?'

'Or the worst one,' he opposed her jokingly, and she looked offended by his saying. If she was to drink booze, that could make things easier for him. He still had to find out who had sent her to burn that building, and possibly, he was getting his hands on something big. Justice had to be done. 'Sure.'


	4. Villains of circumstance

The smell of incense and cinnamon filled the place with a foul ambience, but Smoker didn't mind strong scents.

They had been drinking for about a whole hour. The conversation had been sort of enjoyable, and since he wasn't the talkative kind, he was grateful that she had turned out to be such a chatty individual. Still, he hadn't yet figured who the man behind the strings was.

'Ok,' she laughed, her cheeks red as a result of all the drinking. 'You can't tell me your parents named you Smoker.'

The man bit his lip, but he smiled anyway. 'All right, why not.'

'Because,' she stated simply. They both sat in silence for a few seconds, and she started to snicker once again. 'I mean, it's like naming your son... Drinker. Or Gambler!'

'Hey, it's not that bad of a name. Okay?' he tried to have a dead serious tone, but he had drunk his share of booze too.

'And where did your Fruit come from, anyway? Did someone at the Station think it'd be fun to give it to you? Or... did your partners give you that name? So many questions. I gotta- oop.'

She hurried to hide behind his body, peeking at the front door from time to time. 'Don't turn back,' she told him.

'What is it,' he asked her. Maybe it was his _carte blanche_ to find the criminal he had been looking for in the first place. Still, he decided not to turn back, in order to protect his partner.

'Fuck, that's her,' she shook in fear. 'That's my ex over there.'

'Your ex is here?' he asked her. It amused him to think that she found it serious enough as to hide from her. 'What's so bad about that?'

'I can't be seen with a- with a cop!'

'I'm not a _cop!_' he whispered, offended by her words. 

'I know! I don't care... Shit, she's coming,' she pulled a few of her hairs and looked at the table.

'I'm not even wearing my coat,' he explained while pointing to it with his head. He had kept it on top of his legs since they both sat in the pub a while back. 'She doesn't have to know.'

'Okay, you know what, let's pretend that we're not here together,' she decided as she turned around, dragged her chair a few inches back and grabbed her drink nonchalantly. He rolled his eyes at her behaviour, but decided to go along with her. He then looked back, and spotted a newcomer chatting with the bartender. The lady was of orange hair and had a few facial piercings. Smiling, she walked in to sit, only to discover her ex on the bar.

'Wow, is that you? Oh my, it's been ages!' she exclaimed nicely. The other woman lifted her shoulders, as if it helped her hide in her own body, but she turned back and gave her a clumsy smile.

'Hey, Daniyah. How... how's it been.'

'...Fine?' the other one asked, with a puzzled look on her face. 'Are you okay? You look... strange.'

'Oh, I'm alright,' she lied, trying not to look at Smoker even once. 'Had too many drinks, perhaps? You know me, ha ha.'

'Sure...' Daniyah eyed her suspiciously. 'Hey,' she asked the bartender. 'Put her drinks in my tab.'

'Wait-'

'The sir's too?', he smiled politely.

'Uh... why? Why would he-' the ex blinked and looked at Smoker with curiosity. The pink-haired woman clenched her jaw, and Daniyah persisted. 'Oh. I see what's going on.'

'Daniyah, he's-'

'You don't have to hide it from me! I'm okay with you dating others.'

'I- what?', the other one asked in confusion. Smoker thought of denying it, but they were getting nowhere in that discussion, so he left things to unfold on their own. 'I mean, he's not-'

'Look, I get it,' Daniyah smirked and lifted her eyebrows. 'I'm over us. Don't worry. You're free, girl! Put _their_ drinks in my tab!' she nodded and patted the other girl's back. 'I'll be around.'

She then left them and sat elsewhere. The pink-head sat there in befuddlement, and he sniggered softly.

'See, she's fine with us sitting together,' he bantered. 

'I know, but...' she trailed off. Finishing her drink, she looked at him in an unreadable expression and got up. 'Hey, let's go for a walk.'

As they paid and left the pub, Smoker shrugged.

'I thought everyone here was... disadvantaged,' he began. 'I never imagined you'd have a pub in the city.'

'Hey, we're poor, but we need amusement anyway,' her brow wrinkled. 'You know what? You're it.'

She poked him in the shoulder and started running. Smoker stood there in surprise.

'Are we really doing this. Fuck...' he mumbled to himself, and then took off as fast as he could. The girl made for a terrible fighter, sure, but she could run. He had to give it to her.

He chased her all across buried avenues and shattered walls. There was no apparent reason for their sudden game of tag, but he couldn't let her run off again. Not after deciding to catch the man who made her burn the bank. After a few minutes of hearing her giggles and sighs in the distance, he finally made it to a clearing to the open desert. 

The sight was one to frame. The vast sky opened before them, displaying different shades of dark blue, black and even a reddish tint. The sands looked azure under the light of the moon, now the clouds had left. And below, there was a vast oasis full of unexpected vegetation of all colours. 

His target was sitting nearby the spring, her boots resting by her side. He didn't understand why until he realised her feet were immersed in the waters, moving softly in small circles. He neared her and crouched by her side, his coat still in his hands.

'What are we doing here?', he asked her. The lady didn't turn back.

'Ayanira,' she said, her eyes set on the dark waters. 'That's my name.'

He looked down on the floor, and then back at her. 'I see.'

'I was scared Daniyah would spit it eventually,' she shrugged, 'but then I realised how stupid it was to keep it from you.'

Smoker sat down and left his coat by her boots.

'It's not _your_ name I needed to know,' he argued. 'But I'm thankful you told me.'

She puffed a little air out of her nose, but her mouth didn't accompany the pretend-laugh. After a few seconds, she spoke again:

'Do you know why these kids called you a bad man?' she asked him. He took a second to shake his head in ignorance. 'Half their parents are dead, and the other half are in prison for crimes lighter than other men's who run free.'

Smoker took another moment to recompose himself, and lighted another cigar on. Putting it in between his teeth, he answered. 'I know justice isn't always perfect. But I'm here exactly because of that. We need good assets, good people who are willing to do the right thing.'

She looked back at him.

'Just like you, right?'

He snorted, shaking his head briefly. 'Despite what you think of _cops_, I am actually trying to help make this a better world.'

Her head laid back, and she sighed deeply. 'I know.'

They fell back to silence again. But this time, it was meaningful. He didn't feel awkward about hanging around with her, really. Even her explanation on the kids' lifes got him thinking about what Marines were meant to do. Fuck, if she was in the right, the man he was looking for had some Marines in his pocket.

'We expect you people in power to act right, but what about those who wrong others? Who hurt and use people because of the position that was given to them?' she asked him, her eyes glimmering under the moon. 'What do we do when a Marine acts unjustly? When... when someone like Crocodile, who was backed up by the Government, rises up?'

Smoker took the cigars out of his mouth and closed his eyes. Her questions were right, but he didn't have an answer for them. Not one that would comfort her. 'Well, we act just as we did with Crocodile,' he stated. 'We take the power from them, and sometimes, we give it to someone who might make a better use of it.'

Her head twisted a little bit, as she was lost in thought. 'I want to do the right thing,' she requested, her expression burning in determination. 'Teach me how.'

He furrowed his brow, disturbed. 'You're asking me to teach you what's right and wrong?'

'No. I'm asking you to teach me how to use a Logia.'

Smoker rubbed his temples and gestured in explanation: 'I don't have the time for that.'

'Please,' she begged, 'I want to be able to help.'

He exhaled and thought about it. The lady needed the skillset to defend herself, that was for sure. But he was no teacher. He needed to carry on with his mission as soon as possible, so his crew could leave Alabasta once and for all. 

'Ayanira,' he called her by her name and leaned forward in an attempt to help her understand. 'I think we're both tired. It has been a long day, after all. I'm going back to my ship, I'll come back tomorrow and we can discuss this.'

Ayanira squinted her eyes. 'You're not driving back like this. Not after that much drinking.'

'I'm _sober_,' he remarked. 'Besides, I can't really get hurt on an accident.'

'Well, maybe not you,' she explained sassily. 'But someone else could get hit by your bike, dummy.'

She made a good point. He wasn't a heavy drinker, and even though he felt like he could drive all the way back without a problem, the thought of hurting anybody else by mistake haunted him. 'So, what do I do then.'

'Duh,' she shook her head, getting up and putting her boots on. 'You can sleep at my place, I have a spare bed.'

After climbing the last set of round stairs on the tower Ayanira lived in, Smoker looked around. 

Apart from a few personal belongings, such as pictures and letters, the room looked like a shabby hole to live in. The place was smaller than the first floor, where her workshop was, and the bed, as spacious as it was, looked stiff as a table. A few clothes were scattered on the ground, except for a single, black leather jacket that hung on a wall. There were a few gas lamps here and there, which she lit with a spark from her bare hands. She then turned back and gave him some jazz hands.

'Cool, innit,' she asked him jokingly. 'It's enough to live when you spend most of your day either working or wandering the desert.'

'I see,' he murmured, walking around and looking at a few pictures. There was a happy looking couple in one of them, standing in front of some beautifully painted white and blue tiles. The woman looked a lot like Ayanira herself, and the man wore the same leather jacket he had just seen in the room. Ayanira patted his shoulder.

'Yeah, that's my folks,' she nodded awkwardly. 'You guessed it.'

'I didn't say anything,' he answered, turning around and asking: 'Is this it? Where's your spare bed?'

Ayanira pointed at the enormous bed in the room and smiled. 'Ta-da!' she responded happily. 'Dibs on the floor.'

'You- what?' he asked in agitation. 'You're not sleeping on the floor, goddammit.'

He sat down immediately, taking his place beside the bed. Ayanira growled, discontented.

'What the fuck, you slept on the floor last night,' she argued, trying to push him to bed. He was too heavy to move even a single inch. 'Please, dude. Just take the bed.'

Grabbing her in a professional manner, he pushed her out of his way and onto the bed, still not getting up from the floor. She whinged loudly, but stayed there for a couple seconds. 'You know what,' she mustered. 'Fuck it. Come here, there's plenty of space. You won't even have to fear of brushing past me.'

He looked back and checked the mattress. It was pretty big, just as she said, but he didn't mean to intrude. He had only come there because there was a space to sleep in, in the first place. 'I'm fine,' he told her as he adjusted by the bed. She sighed, but there wasn't much more she could do. By the time she came up with an answer, she started dozing off. The smoke from his cigars vanished, as he put them out and reclined his head on the edge of the mattress.


	5. You think I ain't worth a dollar, but I feel like a millionaire

A fresh nocturnal breeze caressed his head, swaying his hair lightly. He woke up and turned to see.

Ayanira was out of bed, standing, gazing out the window. He wasn't sure what time it was, but the sun was nowhere to be seen yet. It had to be a couple hours before dawn.

'I'm not a good sleeper,' she confessed. 'I always have trouble with resting.

Lighting another cigar, and finding that there were only three of those left, he got up and walked up to her. The moon wasn't shining as it did a while back, but his eyes had adjusted to the dark quickly.

'I'm a fun person to be with, I swear it,' she pointed out. 'You've just caught me off-guard.'

'I believe you,' he answered, leaning back on the wall by the window. The trail of smoke that emerged from his cigar escaped out of the room by the pressure of the winds.

She looked at him and sniffed. 'Can I try?' she asked, looking at his cigar. He found the question rather weird, but offered her the item.

'Sure, why not.'

She took a puff, but started coughing immediately. 'How can you possibly be shoving this into your body _all day long__?'_ she asked him. Smoker bursted into laughter, and Ayanira stuck her tongue out. 'Disgusting.'

'You get used to it', he justified, putting it back in his mouth. Just as he held a slight smile on his face, she smirked and looked out the window once again.

She thought of telling him. She should've. She enjoyed his company, maybe a little too much, even given their position and social class. But what they were going through was an exception: a lucky strike that had brought them both together. Still, she was aware of the reasons why he stayed. Instead, she said different:

'I used to work here all day long. Gloves on, safety goggles on my eyes, all the stuff.'

'Can't imagine you being careful,' he added, and they both snorted in unison. She kept going.

'Sometimes, I was a bit short. Kinda needy. Didn't really make much money, and sometimes, I travelled all the way up to Yuba -even Rainbase, to... get some of the stuff I needed.'

His mouth twitched. He had faced struggle in his life, and his rank wasn't given to him as a gift. He had earned everything he nowadays had become. But still, he couldn't possibly imagine the daily uncertainty. He didn't know the ever-present question in his mind of whether he could find food to survive the week. He then understood her urge to make him eat during her stay in the cells, but shut up about it.

'So, one day, a guy turns up in my workshop. He brought a few colleagues with him. They all wore good clothes, tasteful jewellery and the sort. The man took a good look at everything I had for sale: armours, weapons, but also the mundane stuff such as chairs, fences and the like. He then commissioned a dozen copies of a new weapon, some kind of cutting staff I had never seen in my life before. I was to suggest a good price for the exchange, but he raised a hand and had one of his partners hand me a black briefcase. Not to mention, I was enormously astounded. No one had ever paid for the goods _before_ I started working on them! I happily accepted the case as they all walked out of the workshop, leaving me to my work.'

She halted for a second and her smile started to vanish.

'I couldn't resist it. I opened the briefcase as soon as I could, even before starting to draw blueprints for the weapons. What I found in there hit me like a tidal wave. There was no money to be seen, but instead, some kind of... food.'

Smoker looked away for a moment as he listened to the story. He knew what kind of "food" that would turn out to be. Ayanira spoke again:

'I was hungry as hell, you know,' she told him, her eyebrows lifted. 'It made me kind of mad that they didn't pay me _money_ for my work, but I was too scared to come up with an argument for when they'd come back. So I ate it.' She laughed briefly. 'Oh my god, it was disgusting. Well, you already know. But then, a few hours later, they came back. Boy, they were angry. The boss asked if I had eaten the fruit they had given me by mistake, and I nodded automatically. He threw a fit, of course, and broke some of the stuff I had for sale. He screamed and yelled about the incompetence of his minions, who stood silently during his speech. Then, he turned back at me and told me I owed him a huge debt.'

He felt a cloud of anger forming inside him, but he let her finish the story.

'At first, it was a few million belis. By the next time we spoke, it had increased in a whole million. This has kept going for years, and I don't know how much it is anymore.'

He approached her and threw the fag-end away through the window. He then paced around the room and said:

'So that's why you've been burning things, and who knows what else.' She bit her lip, thinking about what she could say next.

'Yes. I know it doesn't... make up for my deeds, but I haven't hurt a soul, I swear it.'

'I know,' he nodded to himself. 

'That's why... I'm too scared to use it. The Fruit,' she stared at her hands in disgust. 'I enjoy some of its benefits: heat resistance makes my job much easier. But making a more active use of it reminds me of my debt.'

'You asked me to teach you how to use it, though,' he argued, his face unreadable.

'Uh, yes, I did...' she trailed off. 'I can't... live like this any longer. I have to do something about it.'

'So what?' he asked her in a slightly hostile tone, nearing her again. 'You're going to burst out, just to break into some gangster's base and dissolve yourself into... whatever material your Logia is related to? A suicide mission?'

She reflected on it like a child who has been scorned, but didn't answer.

'I won't let you follow such a stupid plan,' he kept going. 'I will go with you.'

Looking up again, her eyes beamed for a second. 'You what?'

The sky had turned a deeper red, and Smoker put his coat back on. Walking out of the room and into the stairs, he talked for the last time:

'We will discuss this again soon. Just let me take a walk alone to think about it.'

Again, she didn't answer, but rubbed her arms in confusion. He walked down the tower, out of the place, and then revisited his parked bike. Taking a portable Den Den Mushi out of his leather pouch, he dialed and waited for the other side to answer.

'Tashigi,' he said. 'There's something I need you to do.'

The morning after, a pillow hit Ayanira in the face, waking her up instantly. She opened her eyes confused.

'Get up,' he prompted as he pulled a few strands of his hair back. Even so, he looked like he had been awake for a while, since his boots were on and his cigars were almost consumed. The sun had come out a while back, and the room was warmer than the night before. She tried to cover herself up with the sheets again, moaning in complaint.

'Five more minutes,' she grumbled back. Smoker pulled the sheets away from her, and she shrugged. 'Okay, damn, I'm on my way. What for, anyway?'

'You're going to get trained.'

'I- you're training me?!' she asked in surprise, showing obvious excitement. Shaking her hands, she got up in a jump and started putting her boots on. 'Thank you!'

'Don't get overexcited,' he commanded as she got fully dressed and ready. 'It's plain and simple. I train you, you get to learn your thing, so I can leave this country with my consciousness clean.'

'Okay, mister spoilsport,' she trailed off. Instead of accompanying him towards the staircase, she turned and grabbed the leather jacket that hanged on a wall, urging him to take his Marine coat off. 'But you should wear this from now on. It'll be safer for the both of us.'

He wasn't too keen on the idea of hiding who he really was, who he had worked so hard to be. But he grabbed the leather biker and thanked her for it.

'Where are we going, then?' she questioned as they got out of the tower. 

'Isn't it obvious?' he answered, taking the lead. 'We're going to train you by the oasis.'

'Oh, nice,' she nodded in agreement while they took a corner.

Once they got to their destination, they stood and looked at each other. Smoker took the jacket off, in case it would get damaged during the training. He didn't mean to ruin it, since it seemed to be a very dear belonging of hers.

'Do I... have to take something off? Will my clothes burn?' she asked him, but he shook his head.

'That won't happen. Just as your powers were able to scorch my gloves, they won't hurt whatever you're wearing now. Don't ask me about the details.'

'I see...' she nodded again. 

'And, just in case. Do you have any idea what your Logia is about?'

'As in... the material I produce and turn into?', her head tilted a little bit. 'I... think it's this thing we call... You know when there's a big storm on the sea, and this bright violet thing pops out just like a flame?'

Smoker blinked twice. What she probably was referring to, was a thing known as Saint Elmo's fire, but she didn't look like an expert sailor, so he didn't pressure her any further.

'You mean plasma,' he told her, and she hit her palm with her fist.

'_Exactly_ that.'

'Now I understand,' he thought of it as he paced around a bit. It wasn't very likely that she had inherited that pirate boy's fruit: he had died just very recently, and her story on how she got the fruit sounded like it happened years back. 'So, is it like fire? Like a lightning?'

'It's... uh...' she struggled to find the words. 'I think it's like, this gas that floats around in a very high temperature? But I can also move it around, and make it blow.'

'Is that how you burnt that building days ago?' he asked her, making her look flustered.

'Uh, yeah.'

'All right. Seems pretty dangerous, but we will give it a try,' he rubbed his hands together and cracked his neck in preparation for the training. 'You are able to turn your hands and arms into plasma, right?'

'I think so...' she agreed, looking at her limbs and performing a small attempt at doing so. It took a few seconds, but her arms turned to a purple-glowing mass. 'Whoah.'

'That's nice. You should have those parts under control, right?'

It seemed like she had to focus to maintain the effect, but she gestured back at him in affirmation.

'Good. Now try to extend that to your legs and torso.'

She puffed a little air out of her mouth, but tried to obey. In doing so, her feet and legs followed, bur her torso refused to obey. 'It's... kind of hard.'

The sand around her feet started turning to a melting form of glass, and he warned her: 'Watch out for that.'

'Whoops,' she bit her lip as she turned her powers off and lifted one of her feet from the viscous mess. 

'Let's try focusing on generating and manipulating it, all right?' he pointed to the next step while she walked off the now cooling glass. 

'Okay,' she tried to follow his lead and clapped her hands softly. When she split them apart, she squinted her eyes and tried to make it work. For a few seconds, Smoker started to expect no results, but then the sound of some kind of fireworks followed, and a sudden beam blinded them.

'Damn!' he yelled, forced to shut his eyes. Still seeing sparks under his lids, he reopened them and tried to adjust to the current light.

'Sorry,' she apologised, still amazed by the results. 'I could use that on a fight, right?'

'Yes, if you have no allies with you,' he argued vaguely. 'Just... don't do it again around me, will you?'

'Yes sir,' she cackled loudly. 'What if...'

Aiming towards the sands by her left, and not Smoker, she tried something different. Putting her palms together and facing outwards, she managed to spurt a little gas, which expanded and vanished quickly. 'That's... not what I wanted to do,' she justified, trying it out again one more time. By refocusing on her abilities, a beam shone on her hands, and they cast a thin ray of light that blew on contact, burning another patch of sand. She was left open-mouthed.

'Woooow...' she blurted, a tinge of excitement in her face. Smoker nodded in approval.

'An interesting move,' he applauded her. 'Now, that's something you could definitely use in a fight.'

'So, am I going to fight you?' she asked him, clapping happily. 

'I have no intention of getting scorched today, thank you,' he let her down, and her smile turned to pure disappointment. 'But we can fight in a more primal way: no powers involved. We can put your agility to use.'

'Really?' she chuckled, back to her usual mood. 'Thanks! Alright, teach me, master.'

They started off with the basics: her fighting stance. He tried to show her the benefits of taking a more stable pose, in comparison to aggressive ones. She wasn't a particularly strong or weak individual, but her height and quickness could be life-saving in some situations. Correcting her pose, they finally got to action, and he started teaching her basic self-defence lessons, such as the weakest points in anthropomorphic life-forms, the strength in using one's limbs accordingly to the distance and course of action, and getting out of common holds. Finally, they moved on to more difficult types of physical restraints, and he sat down on the floor.

'All right,' he told her, 'now sit on my stomach.'

'On- on your belly?' she asked in slight shock.

'Just do it, for hell's sake.'

'Okay,' she obeyed and hurried to get to the position. He then made her grab his neck and asked: 'Who do you think is in a better position here?'

'Um...' she trailed off. 'Me?'

'Yes, you do,' he explained, 'but I could still do something like this...' he kept going, hitting her elbows lightly to show her the potential pain that could cause and grabbing them in a way that twisted her joints. 'Still, there isn't much strength I can manage to have here.'

'Uh-huh,' she nodded slowly.

'But what if we started off like this?' he continued, as he pushed her backwards, changing their position so their legs switched places: he stayed on the floor, but his legs were placed over hers. 'Our arms aren't always our best asset, and if you're forced down to the ground, your best way to get rid of it is probably your legs. They are stronger and define your position completely. So if mine are above yours, I could push you with them, and then...'

Using the force on his legs, he pushed her side and swapped places with her, now being on top.

'You see, we're back to the starting pose. You had the upper ground, but not because you were on top of me, but because your position impeded the lower half of my body from acting. Do you understand?'

She blinked quickly and hummed in affirmation.

'See, there isn't much you can do with your legs now. It's harder to escape. We call this a dominant stance.'

'Oh, baby, I call this something else.'

Smoker felt the blood pumping his sides. 'Wha- will you shut up?! Can you take anything seriously for once?' he yelled back at her, but she guffawed in response. A Den Den Mushi ringed in the pocket of the leather jacket she lent him, and pushing her aside, he got back up and picked up the call.

'Smoker here,' he informed his partner, sending a sideways glance at a still giggling Ayanira. 'I see. Roger that. Good job.'

He turned around, putting the device back inside the leather jacket's pocket and carrying it on his shoulder.

'Go get a shower, or something,' he prompted her. 'I will be leaving soon.'


	6. Into the hollow

'You're not doing this!' Ayanira yelled, trying to pull Smoker away from his motorcycle.

'Doing _what_, exactly?' he answered. 'If this is about the jacket, here, you can have it back. Just make sure to send me my coat.'

'You don't get it!' she whined, persisting in her job, but the man didn't move an inch. He put a foot on the pedals and sighed. 'I know what you're doing! And I can't let you do that alone!'

'You can,' he concluded, getting away from her grasp and starting the engines. 'You're not a bad fighter, but you aren't experienced either. Coming with me is masochistic of you.'

Her fists clenched, and for the first time since he met her, she looked infuriated. 

'I can't take much longer,' he explained, both his hands on the handlebars already. 'Just... you can even keep that coat. I can find myself a copy.'

'You really don't get it, do you?' she asked him, her eyes set on the floor. This time, she sounded genuinely disappointed in him. 'I have been a victim long enough. I won't be nobody's weeping widow.'

Smoker rested his feet on the floor and ruminated on her words. Even though he knew she wasn't the type to marry, he understood the metaphor, and he definitely knew a thing about the feeling of helplessness. The urge to do more than you are supposed to do. He cursed himself for becoming short of cigars so early, but looked up at the sky and sighed.

'You're right about my plans,' he spoke quietly. 'One of my subordinates called me earlier. She has looked into the known Devil Fruit transactions in the islands nearby, and has traced part of the sales back to a single man. People in the underworld call him Fatra Hakim.'

Ayanira tucked her hair behind her ears, still glancing at the floor. 'Snitches get stitches, you know that?', she asked him.

His brow creased after hearing her point. 'I do. I'm not a fool. But you weren't the one to tell me about him.'

'It doesn't matter what _really_ happened. I've been seen with you. I don't think the people of Erumalu would betray me like that, but we inspected that building back in Rainbase.'

Her eyes clothed for a second, but she reopened them in determination. 'We should stick together. I won't be a burden.'

His jaw tensed up while considering the odds. At that moment, she seemed firm, stronger than ever. And he respected her wish for justice. She was right about something: she shouldn't stay a victim anymore.

'Get on,' he ordered after long, expecting some kind of smile back from her. But she wasn't joking anymore: she only looked committed now. She nodded once in a gesture of thankfulness, and sat on the back of the bike.

'You should hold on tighter!' he yelled over the sound of the bike a while after. The vastness of the desert under the light of the sun filled their sight completely.

'What?!' she screamed back at him.

'I said!' he kept going as he slowed down a bit to decrease the noise the bike was making. 'That you should hold on tighter. You're going to fall.'

'Oh...' she seemed flustered by the idea, but she complied, squeezing him softly in the process. 'Do you know where you're going?'

'We're going to Yuba,' he clarified. 'My subordinate has tracked one of their activities up until the city, and an exchange should be about to take place later on. She'll look into more of their transactions while we're doing this.'

'All right, enlighten me. Where _exactly_ is that exchange going to happen?'

'It's supposed to take place beneath some kind of stone bridge,' he told her, and strangely enough, she quit chattering. Seconds of silence followed, but just as he was about to speed up again, she spoke:

'I know where that is.'

'You do?' Smoker nodded and decided not to press on. He knew she had been a part of that world for a long time, but she had been forced into it. Maybe most of their pawns were too. If she was to take him to said place, he was content enough. Asking on the details would be in poor taste.

Within a couple hours, they finally arrived to Yuba. The town was bursting with life, even during the midday. A market greeted them as they got off the bike, and beautifully carved pottery, bags of strongly smelling herbs and carefully stitched carpets filled the floor by their sides. Blending in, they walked casually as they discussed their plans:

'First, we have to get to the bridge,' he informed her, looking up front. 'I think I may know where it is, but your help would be valuable. Then, I'll wait for the messenger to appear, I'll knock them out and you'll watch over them. There should be a good place to hide somewhere nearby.'

'The bridge...' she answered, her voice weak. 'It's very dark. We... they don't really meet underneath it, just by one of its sides. It's pitch black: it's more of a tunnel made for those times when the rain floods the smaller rivers.'

'I see...' he thought about it. 'You're a smart person. You can manage to hide the goon,' she looked at him in slight surprise. 'Then, I will wait for the pawn to arrive. I will get my intel and leave, and then, we can take the messenger to my crew members. We have to isolate them, so they don't talk to their bosses while arrested. Maybe they'll tell us more about Hakim's business.'

Ayanira remained quiet, but she had listened to his words. Whenever she was called upon that bridge, she would have never thought she'd have a chance to overcome her past. But having high expectations hadn't always turned out to work out, as her imprisoning debt was ever-present. She swallowed and guided her partner, taking the lead for a while.

Hassim walked nonchalantly. He was used to dealing with the weakest on the hierarchy: he wasn't as strong as others above him, sure, but he was particularly good at scaring the lumpens in their underground society. He started whistling absentmindedly as he jumped over the fence and dry bushes separating the wide, empty river from the rest of the city and got down to its green riverbed. No one ever looked there: the bushes outside and depths of the place made sure of it. Once half in the shadows, he lighted a cigarette and puffed.

The smoke turned into a darker, denser fog. It started surrounding him, and just in time for him to realise something was wrong, the smoke turned into a person who got him in a choke-hold. 'Don't talk,' the person urged while covering his mouth. He tried to bite back, but a strong hit to his neck got him out of his senses.

'That should be enough for a while,' he told Ayanira as he walked in the tunnel, using his lighter to see. She got up from the humid smelling cobblestone and helped him tie the man up. Smoker took an extra step, clasping the seastone handcuffs around his wrists.

The man looked weak and shallow. He was wearing an expensive looking bone-white blazer on top of a black, half buttoned shirt. Smoker decided to keep his dark red frames on, and looked at his partner-in-crime. She was gaping at the gangster, her face devoid of emotion. He tried to shake her into her sense:

'Hey, cheer up,' he commanded. 'This has been easy, hasn't it? Let me carry the rest of the deed. He should stay unconscious for half an hour, so let's hope for our target to be the punctual type.

She nodded and gave him a brief smile. Once everything was set-up, he got back up, turned his lighter off and walked towards the daylight. He stepped on the cigarette the gangster had tried to smoke, and waited.

Eventually, a man showed up. He looked thin, even half starved, and his eyes were nearly out of their sockets. He rubbed his arms as he got down the inclined terrain and neared Smoker. His face changed, though, as soon as he made eye contact with his messenger.

'You're... you're not the usual guy,' he shook in confusion. Smoker, his arms crossed and his brow creased, neared him.

'You're not the usual guy, either. You know, _my_ guy turned out to be a fucking traitor,' he stressed the key words, walking closer to him menacingly. 'And I have been moved into this jurisdiction. I am just as tough as the older messenger, even rougher, but tell me: are you as slimy of an individual as my older guy? Because I'm becoming rather short-tempered these days.'

The target held his own arms even tighter and took a peak around them in fear. 'It has been done,' he confessed. 'I have taken care... of the man.'

Smoker got closer, so that their faces were only about an inch apart. The man's confidence flickered even harder, and he bit his lip in nervousness. 'Have you done _everything_ we told you?' he asked him slowly.

'E-everything!' the man whispered. 'I even s-sent the papers back to t-the boss. I didn't open a t-thing, I swear.'

'Good,' Smoker patted his back and walked backwards. The man sighed in relief. 'You've turned out to be an useful asset, Barry.'

'M-my name is Lucien...'

'I don't care,' Smoker spat as he stomped on the gangster's cigarette. 'Go back to your mother.'

The man nearly tripped in trying to walk away. He quickly got up the ramp and went through the fence and bushes, disappearing from plain sight. Smoker walked back into the tunnel in look for his partner.

'Are you okay?' he asked her, turning his lighter back on to see. 'My subordinates will take care of him now. I have called them: they should be here within a short while. It's going smoothly.'

The man came back to his senses and looked around, his eyes unfocused. Smoker sat in front of him, across a white table, and leaned over it. 'Back to us, I see.'

Hassim tried to get a hold of his knives, up his shirt, but his hands were tied inside some metal handcuffs. He sighed. 'Are these made of that famous seastone thing? I haven't even eaten a Devil Fruit in my whole life, buddy.'

'Oh, you want these removed, then?' Smoker asked him, but didn't move an inch. 'I'm sorry. We'll be more considerate next time.'

'What am I here for, chief?' he asked in return, adjusting to the light. The floor swayed lightly, indicating that they were on a Marine ship. 'I haven't done anything illegal.'

'Haven't you?' the Marine responded. 'Astonishing to hear, since we have proof of your involvement in a man's beating.'

Hassim's eyes opened wide, but he tried resisting. 'And whatever ties me back to that terrible felony?'

Smoker took a moment to build up the tension, then produced some folded paper from the back of his trousers and showed the perp. 'You'd think we don't have full access to the correspondence system in this country. This is just one of the copies of the letter one of your pawns sent your boss. Is that what you call him? Boss?' he went on as he let him read part of the letter. Hassim looked infuriated. 

'That _still_ doesn't have to tie me back to that.'

'Sure thing,' Smoker got up and folded the letter again. 'We'll see about that when we arrest Hakim.'

In exiting the room, he left Hassim to his thoughts. A pair of lower-ranked Marines walked in and took him to his temporary cell.

Ayanira waited by a wall nearby, managing to not get seen by the gangster. Even if things turned out to work, she wasn't sure if she wanted them to know who helped the Marines get to them. But, really, she also felt she had to face them upfront. She was done being a coward.

'Hey, Hassim,' she called out to him when they were about to turn a corner, and he looked back at her, raising an eyebrow when his eyes met hers. Her hands were shaking, but hopefully, it wasn't noticeable. 'Hope you have a blast in prison.'

She expected some snappy response, some threat, even a spit. But the man just looked at her silently as he disappeared behind the corner. She then took some air and walked to the room Smoker had gone to earlier.

He was talking to a woman, the one Ayanira had seen walking along with him the first day. They were discussing his approach to the classical arresting method, and even though it had worked this time, the woman was concerned it wouldn't be safe for him the next one. In ending the conversation in a slightly heated tone, he walked out of the door and looked at Ayanira.

'Let's go,' he told her as he walked across the hallway. 'We have to find a different way across the river.'


	7. Smooth sailing

'So, how exactly are we going to cross the river without that splendid battleship of yours?' Ayanira asked him as they landed back on the beach. 

'I am aware that I can't mobilise my whole crew after Hakim. We have tracked the address that letter was sent to. It took my subordinate to a particular post office box in Nanohana, belonging to a woman named Malak. If I am correct, the letter should arrive in the morning, so we need to get to Nanohana before dusk.'

'Okaaay...' her eyes squinted. 'But that didn't answer my question.'

He sighed as he inspected his motorbike, then looked back at her. Ayanira frowned at the thought of crossing the river on that bike.

'Okay, that's a poor idea. We'd be riding a rather unstable-looking vehicle, at least when drifting on moving waters, and none of us can swim. Nah. We should take a boat-cab.'

'What?' Smoker blurted out in response. 'Those are slow as hell! And the river is kilometers wide. It will take us hours to get there!'

'So what, do you want us to drown terribly on our third date?' she asked him, earning an even harder frown from him. 'I don't think so.'

'I can't believe we're doing this,' Smoker mustered as he finished carrying his bike into the boat and looked at the man who owned it. He seemed like a merry fisherman, his skin darkened by the hours he spent under the sun, and he was wearing comfortable clothes for working. Even so, he owned a spacious boat, with a couple rooms for customers. He smiled at them, his eyes nearly closed in content.

'I know this girl,' he informed him with a brief handshake. 'Your trip is on me.'

Ayanira smiled back at him, but Smoker shook his head and offered him the coins the trip was worth. 'I refuse.'

'I do, too,' the man shook his head as he picked the walkway up. 'Get comfortable, we're leaving soon.'

Smoker grumbled behind his teeth and followed the woman to an interior room. The place was fancier than the outside of the boat: countless candles were lit, and there was a table with chairs, a round bed and what appeared to be a minibar. 'This looks like...'

'The ship of love!' she finished his sentence, plopping on the bed and breathing in happily. 'I used to come here with Daniyah. Good times.'

'I'll make sure not to touch anything,' he joked as he sat on one of the chairs.

'Want a drink?', she asked him, lifting her head. 'There should be some Alabasta red wine over there.'

'We're not drinking,' he commanded. 'We're in the middle of something serious, remember?'

'Right...' she mustered, letting her head fall back on the bed. She stared at the ceiling, as the ship started swinging softly under the small waves. The moonlight and the smell of fresh water filled the room, and she rubbed a few of her fingers together. 'Hey, do you think we're doing things right?'

Smoker took some air, and pondered on it. 'Usually, I would send my men to that base to arrest anyone on sight. I am pretty positive that their underground business has endangered countless people, and they have to be stopped.'

'But you don't have much evidence on that yet, right?' she asked him, curious. He inhaled.

'No.'

'So you can't just... raid their base for selling Fruits out there,' she concluded with a small nod. She knew nothing of bureaucracy, but she was on the right. 'Maybe we are rushing things a bit.'

He snorted, his lips tight. 'Indeed we are,' he agreed. 'But I feel like this is what has to be done.'

Ayanira looked at him with a momentary dreamy expression, but changed back to teasing him soon: 'The rebel cop who takes justice by his hand. Sounds cool, but it's a dangerous concept.'

'Hey,' he furrowed his brow. 'I know that, morally and legally, I shouldn't abuse my position. But... let me have this for once. I think we can take more info out of him once we catch him, and it will be worth the arrest.'

'Okay, chief,' she answered nonchalantly. On second thought... maybe she was expected to comfort him. 'I mean, you look like the righteous type. You haven't done anything wrong since you got here. Well, except for expecting me to cross the river on a motorbike.' He laughed briefly. 'I don't feel very... confident around Marines yet, you know. But you're fine.'

'I don't need your approval,' he joked, getting up from the chair and heading to look out the window. 'At least, not on that matter.'

She got up in a jump, and ended up sitting on the edge of the bed. 'Did! You! Just!'

Smoker turned back, his eyebrow raised at her. 'Did I what?'

'You HIT on me!' she exclaimed, as if finding the idea rather amusing. 'I can't believe it! I got you to do it!'

His face felt warmer, and whether it was anger or embarrassment, he wasn't clear yet. 'You're rather hopeful, aren't you.'

She cackled and laid back on the bed. 'Don't worry, I wouldn't take it to the next base if I didn't know you were positive about it.'

Sighing, he shook his head slowly and looked out the window once again. 'Are you always like this?' he asked. After all, they were on their way to track down a dangerous mafioso. He didn't really get how she kept her spirits up.

'You mean, flirtatious? With hot people who don't really look offended by it? Yeah.' They both stayed silent, and Ayanira started feeling awkward about the pause. 'I guess joking around is just the way I try to help people not to get... sad. But I can stop if you want me to.'

'I really don't mind,' he concluded, stretching his neck and back. He had never really known of anyone like that before. Sure, he had met jokers and pranksters in his lifetime, but none of them tried to court him like that, and he still wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing. Turning around, he got back to their previous topic. 'I should tell you about our plans in Nanohana.'

Her mouth twisted, as if she was awaiting something else in his response. 'That didn't really look like an answer to me... but I'm all ears.'

Actively avoiding the matter, he pressed on. It wasn't time for them to consider anything else than their mission. 'Once we get there, we'll go to the post office. I know the number for our target: she owns the box labelled as number forty-six. Now, I am able to turn into my element, but it seems like you aren't fully capable of controlling your Fruit. So I thought, if an emergency comes up, I can accompany you as you pretend to be smoking.' He took a pack of cigarettes from his pockets, which had been stolen from the gangster he had arrested earlier, and kept explaining. 'I'm not sure how much they know about the Marine, or even about you. So you should try to blend in, and possibly, wear some kind of concealing clothes too.'

Ayanira nodded quietly, and asked the question. 'Why would you need to turn into smoke? Can't we just walk around all the time?'

'It is likely that we will use our normal forms during most of our mission, but in case we need to take an extra cover up step, we can resort to our plan B.'

'I get it.'

'Then, we shall follow her around for the rest of the day. I don't care how long it takes us: she has to give their boss those papers. I don't think a call will do. Otherwise, they wouldn't require that poor pawn to send it on paper. Whatever is in those reports, it's valuable enough for them not to set it on fire.'

He then gave her a questioning look. She didn't fully understand why until a few seconds later. 'No, I've never had to send anything before. But... I don't really want to talk about it.'

Understanding her negative to talk about the things she had done to restore her debt, he decided not to ask any further. Taking in a lot of fresh air, he realised how much he missed his cigars. 'How long does this take until we get to the shore?' he asked.

'Like... four hours,' she calculated, and in doing so, she curled up into a fetal position, facing the opposite wall. 

The wind howled softly against the woods of the ship. The old man started whistling a song in the distance, and Smoker found it rather familiar. Heading to the leather jacket he had left upon the back of the chair he occupied moments ago, he took two Den Den Mushi from each of its pockets and gave one to Ayanira. She looked up at him with an ephemeral interest that shook her from her sudden blue mood. 'I took this from my ship. Keep it with you at all times.'

She accepted it, and placed it between her arms, as if hugging a plush that had been given to her. 'I will,' she mustered, directing her gaze back to the walls.

Taking it it would be a rather long journey, Smoker estimated their arrival to take place between 12 to 1 AM. The old man's song continued, echoing softly in his ears, and he finally remembered where it was from.

'You know what,' he talked to the woman as he got up and headed to the minibar. 'Let's play a game.'

Ayanira blinked twice, and arose slowly from her withdrawn position. 'What?' she simply answered.

'You look like you like games, right?' he explained, and just like she had said before, some red wine greeted him from inside the minibar. 'Let's play one.'

She rubbed her forehead, still trying to understand his change of mind. 'I thought we were in the middle of something important.'

'Yes,' he answered. 'This.'

Her confusion slowly changed into a smirk. 'Are you trying to cheer me up, Marine man?'

'Don't make it too obvious,' he replied as he sat back down where he had done before, and gestured for her to sit on the other chair by his side. She reluctantly got up and obeyed, even though her smile was now ever present. 'I haven't played this much, but I think the youngsters call it...'

'Never have I ever. And you talk as if you were an old man,' she laughed out loud. He cleared his throat.

'Correct. Now, who should go first?'

She leaned back and waved her hand. 'Oh, you go first. I'm eager to see what your questions are like.'

He tapped a finger on his chin and tried to come up with a question. 'Okay...' he mumbled, looking for words as he filled them two glasses of wine. 'Never have I ever stolen something.'

She shut her eyes and cursed at the air. 'Shit. I have,' she confessed, taking a sip of her glass. He looked disappointed in her, but she shrugged back at him. 'What? I need sustenance in order to survive.'

'Okay, whatever you stole, I'm not that interested. Your turn.'

'All right. Never have I ever... woken up still drunk.'

But, beyond expectation, he didn't move a muscle.

'Come on!' she exclaimed, 'you've never drunken that much?'

'Have you?' he asked her, his arms now crossed. 'I thought this was about asking things you haven't done before.'

'Aw, you smart-ass. Okay, you're right,' she replied as she took another sip from her wine. 'You're on.'

'Never have I ever called a boss "dad".' She laughed at the idea, but didn't drink this time. 'I thought everyone fell on this one,' he confessed, taking a sip.

'_No one_ bosses me around. Therefore, no one gets miscalled "dad" by me. It's a win-win.'

A while had passed since they started playing. Smoker was on his third glass of wine, and she had just started her fourth. Surprisingly enough, they always ended up coming up with a new question: his were often about daily oopsie-doopsies, while hers were more of the naughty type. Their back and forth kept going for a while, until he thought of a different one:

'Okay, let me try this one,' he could feel the effects of the alcohol showing up. He wasn't drunk, but still, his senses were slightly slower and his mood was brighter. 'Never have I ever had a crush on a Marine.'

Ayanira opened her mouth, gaping at him in response, but quickly went to laughing yet again. 'That is a given, you bastard,' she admitted her guilt and drank once more. 'You've done that on purpose.'

'Not really,' he smirked as he rubbed his temples. She was kind of right: what was he thinking about? 'Sorry,' he apologised, half-jokingly. 'I still haven't figured out how I feel about this.'

This time, she frowned, her smile vanishing from her face. 'This?' She bit the insides of her mouth and looked up at the ceiling. 'You don't have to decide whether to _marry_ me, or something. I'm fooling around, you know. Going with the flow.'

'Going with the flow...' he repeated after her, deep in thought. Maybe she was right about this, too. Maybe he had been thinking for far too long, and only had to go along with it. It wasn't engagement they were talking about, and for a moment, he thought of trying his luck. He thought of even kissing her, just to see how he felt about it.

Only, he hadn't just thought about it.

She kissed him back after what felt like a clumsy collision between their lips, and sniggered in the meanwhile in brief sniffs. He gave in to his urges and grabbed the back of her face in an attempt to kiss her even harder, but she stopped their kiss and finally guffawed out loud.

'You're kinda rough, aren't you.'

But he didn't want to talk, not right now. He wanted to follow his short-term desires, and it felt good so far. She noticed the look on his face, and got up from her chair to lean into their kiss better. He stayed on his seat as he bit her lower lip, and tried to hold her closer, making her sit on his lap in the process. They held, caressed and clawed on each other like teenagers under an adrenaline rush, only to make the chair underneath them crash with a strong crack.

They were shaken back into their senses as they tried to get up from the floor. Breathing heavily, they looked at each other in slight befuddlement, and Ayanira was the one to speak first: 'Are you okay? Did you get stabbed by splinters, or...?'

'I'm fine,' he finally spoke, getting up and offering her a hand to do so too. He rubbed his nose: being back to real life after that brief debauchery felt like a cold bucket of ice on his head. She took his hand and got up an inch too close to him, but she was too short to try to resume their kissing. Instead, she attempted to brush her hair with her fingers, back into its normal shape. 'I'll pay for the chair.'

'You don't have to,' she hurried to answer. 'I can do it. I have known Aqim for a while, and-'

'I will pay for it,' he finished their discussion with determination. She giggled and sat back down on the bed awkwardly. 'How could I ever explain this to that poor old man?', he asked.

She shrugged and tried to catch her breath. 'You're pretty big. I don't know. We'll tell him it was an accident, and that'll do.'

A couple of ducks cried outside the boat, and nothing else was heard thereafter. Ayanira looked content with their brief affair, but her eyes yelled tiredness. After all, they had been drinking for a while, and the moon was up high in the sky.

'Take a nap,' he said as he headed to the door. 'I'll go get some air.'


	8. Burn the witch

Ayanira stretched her knees, standing by the Post Office already. They both had taken their positions a while ago: she was wearing a long, black wig and shades. Smoker had told her that would be enough to cover her, but she begged to differ. Still, she accepted the "costume" and put it on before leaving the store.

'See anything?' his voice called her through the Den Den Mushi she was carrying. He was somewhere in a nearby alley, covering one of the paths one could take from the entrance to the Office. 

'Nah,' she mustered, tapping her foot on the floor impatiently. 'This is as boring as I expected.'

'Hey, this work isn't always fights and shots. This is an undercover mission, and it's just as important as any other more "active" job on the field.'

'Okay, geez,' she sighed, peeking at the inside of the building on the tip of her toes. The ambience inside was exquisite: the Post Office was one of the oldest, most beautiful constructions in Nanohana. It was spacious, and everything inside it was painted in ivory white and golden filigrees. Three workers were receiving the inquiries on singular desks, but most importantly, at the back of the room (which she was mostly able to see amongst the people who filled the place) stood the boxes she should be paying attention to. 'Hey, any signs of a hangover there?'

'None at all,' he answered bluntly. 'If you're having a hangover, I'm-'

'I'm okay, I'm okay' she reiterated with a bold smile, even though he wasn't even there. 'I'm used to drinking. Besides, we didn't even... drink that much last night.'

They both seemed to avoid addressing the elephant in the room ever since they got to Nanohana. They had slept in a cosy inn, in separate beds, and although it seemed like nothing happened between them the night before, she could feel it in the air. She inhaled, trying to focus on the matter at hand.

'So...' she started off, talking under her breath. 'What rank are you, exactly.'

A brief silence followed. 'Why are you asking that?'

'I don't know, small talk?' she asked back hinting at the obviousness of her purpose, and he snorted.

'You don't need to do any small talk during a mission, but I'll take it. I am currently holding the title of Vice Admiral.'

'Whew,' she whistled. 'Sounds high.'

'Wait, you don't know how our ranks work, do you?'

She hummed to herself for a few seconds, then decided to tell the truth. 'Nope.'

'How can you not...?' he started to question, but decided to stop there. She wasn't really your average citizen, and before they met, she didn't really seem to like Marines. Hell, she didn't even like them now. He scratched his jaw and proceeded to explain: 'Our ranks go from Chore Boy to Fleet Admiral.'

'So... you're on the second highest... rank?'

'Not really,' he clarified. 'There's the Admirals below the Fleet Admiral, and then, yes, there's us. The Vice Admirals. Then you have the Rear Admirals, Commodores, Captains, Commanders, Lieutenant Commanders, Lieutenants, Lieutenant Junior Grades and Ensigns. That's the Marine Commissioned Officers, there.'

'Oh, wow. So you've gone a looong way up, then.'

'Yes, I have,' he answered, his eyes fixated on the people around him. 'Then, underneath us, you have the Infantry and Sailor Division, which-'

'Hey, shut up,' she shushed him quickly. For a moment, she didn't say a thing, and he thought she was teasing him, but then she spoke again: 'Shit!'

'What?' he urged her to be clear.

'That's our number, forty-six! Shit! That's the target! Oh my god.'

'Who?! Who is it, Ayanira? Where are they going? Can it be Malak?'

'I don't know dude, but she's opening it... She's taken the mail... and... Fuck!' she panicked for a moment. 'She looked at me! Oh god, she knows.'

'Calm down!' he yelled back at her, but maintained his position. 'Does she know you? Does it seem like she's suspicious of you?'

Seconds passed, and her answer didn't arrive. He could feel his body heating up in excitement: fighting the big bad guys was always a glorious thing, but doing the dirty work also paid off for him. He couldn't see Ayanira where he was currently standing, so after a few seconds, he started walking again.

'She's taken the mail... and she's going... left! She's going the opposite direction! Oh god she started running!'

'Chase her!' he urged her as he sped up. He quickly arrived at the entrance of the Post Office, and saw a glimpse of a woman in a black wig running in the distance. He hurried to get to her, but she was a better runner than a fighter, and he lost track of her amongst the peoples in the street. 'Shit.'

He thought of floating around, but the mission was theoretically undercover. He seethed with frustration. Nevertheless, he kept running aimlessly, and just as he thought he wouldn't be able to find his partner in the city, he heard her through the Den Den Mushi between puffing and panting.

'Got ye,' she said out loud. 'You... criminal. I can't believe you've... run all the way to this... weird looking dog statue?'

'A dog statue?' a soft yet angered voice followed. 'This is one of Arabasta's protectors, you knucklehead.'

Following his gut, he started running again to find said statue. 'Whatevs,' Ayanira went on. It sounded like they were both struggling during the conversation, and he hoped she had the higher ground. 'I found you, in this alleyway, by the canal street. You stay there: I'm a Devil Fruit user, and there's nothing you can-'

A hit was heard, and she yelped in pain. Smoker raced as fast as he could, and in seeing the street with the water canal in the middle, he finally found them in a perpendicular alley. Ayanira was on the floor, and the other woman stumbled to get on her feet to escape, but just as he considered making use of his powers for the first time, Ayanira tripped her with a scorching foot.

'Ow!' the woman screamed in pain and dropped to the floor, her hair on her face. A rather expensive looking hat flew from her head, and Ayanira hurried to jump on her to keep her on the ground for good. He approached them and checked her choke-hold technique: it seemed like she had learnt a thing or two from his quick defence lessons. He spoke before the woman did again:

'Are you Malak?'

She grumbled under her breath. 'What if I am?'

'Why did you run away?'

'I don't know!' she screamed in despair. It didn't seem like she was able to escape Ayanira's grasp, and her cheek rested on the floor as she surrendered slowly. 'This lady kept looking at me. I thought she'd rob me. Is it money you want?'

'Not really, he neared her and crouched by her side, making sure nobody was watching first. 'It's about Hassim.'

The look on her face shifted completely, as she understood the situation. 'Oh.'

'We are going to find him,' Ayanira explained, looking tough. 'And you are going to assist us.'

She gave Smoker a sideways glance, and cleared her throat. 

'Or... you can just do the talking.'

'It's fine,' he told her as he picked up the woman's hat. 'Malak, we are in a hurry to find your dear boss. Another of your folks wasn't very receptive, but with the right questions...'

'I'll tell you anything,' she confessed, not trying to run away anymore. Smoker blinked.

'What?'

'I won't endure torture because of that prick. Not again. What is it you want?'

That thing, again. What was with the people who worked for Hassim, that they all claimed to have faced torture at least once in their lives? He looked at Ayanira.

'Where is he, now?'

'At his base. It's in the docks, in a royale-looking manor.'

'Not very low-profile, are we?' he asked her as he looked at Ayanira. 'You are going to take us there. Now.'

Malak eyed him in recognition, and her eyes narrowed. 'You're that smoking bastard from the Marine, aren't you?'

Having her stand up, while still held in Ayanira's hands, he nodded. 'Every last one of these affirmations is true, yes. Have we met before?'

'Not really,' she answered, giving him a sideways glance. He took the time to dust her veiled sunhat and put it on top of her head again. 'But you were here years ago, when Crocodile was defeated.'

'I was,' he crossed his arms and urged Ayanira to let go of her with a small gesture. The woman looked relieved once she could move her arms around freely, and rubbed her wrists. 'Now, show me some gratitude and take us to the docks.'

'You made it rain with Dance Powder, back then, didn't you?' Malak asked him as they walked along through the offices and houses in the docks. Men and women moved around them, carrying goods and taking them to enormous machines, making lists of goods the ships had brought and their costs, and the like. The turmoil was loud enough for them to conversate without fear of being overheard. Ayanira didn't look at him, but listened very closely. She used to believe the usage of Dance Powder was strictly forbidden, but she didn't really know her laws. Smoker let out a small laugh through his nose.

'I'm not here to discuss what happened.'

Malak's eyes were suspicious, but a small smile was plastered on her face. On the other hand, Ayanira scratched the insides of her hand. The thought of Dance Powder made her stomach turn, as the overuse of it by Crocodile buried her city almost completely. In the beginning, all she had was the top floor of her tower; nowadays, she had managed to dig a whole floor from the ground. She swallowed.

After they turned a corner, they finally outlined the manor, and Ayanira whistled in surprise.

'I take it that's the place.'

'Indeed,' Malak clarified for her, and Smoker halted their pace. 

'If we are to break in, we better resolt to plan B. There's no way we're hiding you from them, and you're also known to work for them,' he told his partner. She nodded in affirmation as Malak sighed with exasperation. 'Take this.'

Giving her a cigarette, he lighted it on and turned his lower body into smoke. 'I'm here, watching closely. So you can still call out for me.'

'Okay.'

She took a puff of the cigarette, and was immediately turned off by its taste. Coughing, she remarked: 'It's disgusting!' Smoker burst into laughter as he completely turned into smoke and started swirling around her.


	9. The vampyre of time and memory

A great, opulently decorated hall greeted Ayanira (her wig off, now) and Malak in their entrance. The ground was composed of differently painted tiles, decorated with rich, traditional Alabastan patterns, and several exquisite plants filled the front. The frivolousness of how very expensive everything around them looked made her stomach turn, as every wealthy man she had ever known of had become so by exploiting others. This time around, though, one of the exploited turned out to be herself.

But maybe today was the day to achieve closure.

She walked along with Malak between puffs, only to decide not to take one once anymore. Instead, she casually let the cigarette be between her lips, as smoke emerged from it and turned into small clouds. She knew Smoker was there, somewhere, but she wasn't certain how much he could see, or do.

A tall, sleek man turned a corner and received them. 'Malak,' he politely nodded. He then spent a few seconds looking at Ayanira, trying to figure out who she was.

'She works for the boss. I have some very important correspondence for him.'

'I'm sure you do,' the man took a bow and guided them through a corridor. They walked up some stairs, then down, and then up again, only to access an even bigger room, where _he_ was standing. 

Fatra Hakim stood in front of a bureau-like set of desks, under the light of hundreds of candles set between crystals hanging from the ceiling. The place was notoriously spacious, especially for such a particular office. He was carving some kind of wooden box, engraving it meticulously while his back was turned on them. The steward approached him, and in whispering in his ear, earned a small nod and a gesture for him to leave.

'Malak,' his soft voice called. 'I hear it you have brought me something I inquired about.'

The woman hurried to walk up to his side, and handed him the letter. It was packed thoroughly, and was likely to contain multiple reports. He took his time to carefully put his gouge and wood down on the desk and opened the package. 

'You've done a man's job, angel,' he quietly congratulated her. 'Now leave, away from my sight.'

Malak sauntered away, her heels echoing in the whole room, and gave Ayanira a last glance. On the other hand, the pink-haired woman wondered how long it would take for her partner to materialise. 

Hakim, wiping his gouge clean with a thin napkin, spoke first:

'Whatever shall bring you to my very own home, blacksmith?'

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Maybe Smoker was waiting for him to confess, say something incriminating. 'I... was wondering how much my debt currently amounts to.'

She stared at his long, black hair, tied into a ponytail, and awaited for an answer. The man let out a delicate chuckle.

'This room,' he opened his long arms and finally turned back to her, revealing his current appearance. Ayanira knew that face well. She had grown to hate it in the past few years, but she remained silent. 'Do you know what it is?'

The woman felt puzzled by his answer. Of course a narcissistic, rich man would display such an eccentric way of talking. She shook her head. 

'This is my private ballroom. In the years of my youth, I used to organise great events and balls under this very ceiling. We danced, we drank, we laughed. The people who would come to my parties...' He smiled to himself, recalling the good memories of it. 'Now I'm used to loneliness, as I find it more... private.'

He took a couple steps forward, and she felt her whole body tense up. Her blood seemed to boil, but the smoke around her swirled peacefully.

'Do you realise how old I am, Ayanira?'

She blinked twice, trying not to offend him. '...Pushing forty?'

The man laughed again, louder this time. His smile prevailed: 'I'm over eighty years old. You wouldn't think a Devil Fruit trafficker would be exempt of harnessing his own powers, would you?'

Ayanira stood there in slight shock. She had seen people who looked younger than they actually were, but they definitely didn't look forty years younger. What kind of Devil Fruit had he eaten?

'Then, given my age,' he walked further and further, until he reached her proximity. He took the cigarette from her mouth, dropped it and stomped on it. 'Why do you think of me as a child?'

'W-what?' she asked, just in time to be engulfed by complete darkness. 

'You...!' the fog turned into the solid shape of a person, and Smoker held Hakim in a complex choke-hold. The man gasped in slight surprise.

'Oh my, you brought a friend!' he yelled as he looked him in the eye. Smoker felt his body stiffen, and with a minor push on his torso, he fell down like a statue. Hakim recovered quickly and took a few steps away, towards his desks. The Marine got up confused, and drawing his Jitte, he ran up to him. The man dodged one of his hits with grace, and looked him in the eye again. Again, his legs and arms wouldn't answer, and he felt the horror of paralysation. He tried to rapidly go through the Devil Fruits he knew of, but couldn't come up with whatever Fruit that man owned. Hakim walked around the desks and turned to him. 'You're that Marine I've heard of, aren't you? Please, do correct me if I'm wrong.'

He felt how he regained his capacity to move, and didn't take the time to answer. He tried to hurry as much as he could, and thought he managed to land a hit on his torso. However, his weapon fell millimetres short, as he was paralysed again. Hakim shook his head in disappointment.

'My, my, I'm but a man trying to be polite. You break into my manor, you sneak past my guards... and you expect me to fight you without a word? Pitiful.'

Ayanira rubbed her back as she got up from the floor. She was used to dangerous falls, and had developed a way to drop so she wouldn't hurt herself, but she could only roll that way if she was able to see.

Luckily, the panic she had felt had managed to help her turn into plasma for once in her life, and she avoided most of the hit.

She got up and looked around, but it was too dark to see. Producing a small blue flame, she was finally able to see in the dark. The place she had fallen to was some kind of dungeon, equipped with all kinds of torturing devices. There was a metal table with some kind of shackles on it, an iron maiden, a thumbscrew and even some sort of gigantic metal bull.

'The man is nutter, indeed,' she murmured to herself.

She looked up and tried to locate the trap door she had fallen from, but the ceiling was too high and dark to see, and she couldn't just fly around like Smoker was able to. And... of course the metal door was locked. She put her hands together to try to cast a laser beam to cut through it, and the recoil pushed her backwards. But, on second inspection, it seemed to be made of that very expensive, very hard seastone. She hissed.

Trying to spot some kind of tool that would help her up, she wasn't able to find anything of use. No ladders, no trap door handle rope... nothing. And Smoker had proven to be one hell of a strong fighter, but she was growing worried. With difficulty, she managed to climb up the bull by holding onto its tail and hindquarters and tried to intensify the flame in her hands.

Lucky her, she finally found the trap door on the ceiling. It looked like it was made of wood from this floor, even though she knew it was covered in tiles up above. It had to be heavy, and she wasn't sure if it opened the other way around, but... there was nothing left for her to try. And the prospect of being swallowed by that big metal bull wasn't very pleasant, either.

'Okay, chill out, Ayanira,' she told herself as she tried to produce the same beam underneath her feet, only this time, it would be huger. 'You got this.'

Hakim opened a beautifully crafted box, its insides covered in red velvet, and displayed a set of shiny gouges and knives of all sizes. Taking a pointy, slim blade between his fingers, he blinked slowly.

'I'm betting you're dying to know what secrets my power holds, aren't you?'

Suddenly, his mouth was able to move, just as his eyes were this whole time, but he refused to speak back to him. Hakim shook his head again.

'Do you have anything of interest to say?' he asked.

'You hide behind your powers, but you aren't able to defend yourself properly otherwise. You're nothing without that Fruit.'

'You know, actually, you're right,' Hakim confessed as he approached him and held the knife very close to his face. 'I am not a man of punches and fights. In violence, I prefer... the subtler path.'

'Are you proud of torturing your own peoples? They have all confessed to have suffered under your hands.'

Hakim grimaced at him, and looked genuinely disgusted. 'Not that word, please. Don't pronounce that word, it's tacky and unprofessional.'

'What, torture?'

This time, Hakim looked downright pissed at him. Taking the handle between his fingers, he made the point slide for a few centimetres on his thigh, and proceeded to stick it, ripping muscle and skin under its path. Smoker felt the urge to scream, but held it forcefully. 

'You see, this is what happens when I'm not really on a bright mood,' he told him, a few strands of his hair sticking out of place since they fought earlier. 'I'm sorry that you had to meet me under these circumstances. I have worked with men who hold your position, maybe lower-ranked ones. But they are very compliant in their jobs.'

'You won't get to bribe m-'

'You didn't scream earlier. I take it you're a very strong-willed individual. Let's try again... a few times more.'

He removed the blade from his upper leg, and just as he got ready to be stabbed again, his wound stopped hurting. He tried to look down, but as the man cleaned the knife thoroughly with that cloth napkin, he was struck by the same kind of pain again. Then, the cut closed, and reopened a few more times until he realised what his power was. His face was red and sweaty under the pain he underwent.

'Time... control,' he managed to mutter, and Hakim clapped.

'Bravo!' he felicitated him. 'You're correct. I am able to control time, but only on other people's bodies and mine. I can do this all day, if you want me to. Not too dirty, not too arduous. And you won't stain my beautifully crafted floor if I keep going back. I can rely on the first blood I cause upon you forever. Now, speak, why don't you start by telling me the names of those working und-'

'INCOMING!' someone yelped clumsily, and Smoker heard a strong hit behind him. He was happy to recognise Ayanira's voice, but he immediately warned her:

'Don't let him look at you!' he screamed. 'He'll paralyse you!'

'Too bad I'm too fabulous to look at!' she quickly answered, and a small blast was heard. A white flash of light blinded him for a few seconds, but once it did, he recovered his movement. He knelt down, his wound still open, and closed his eyes in discomfort.

In blinding Hakim, she had helped him out of his control. He tried to land a Jitte hit on the man, but he just couldn't figure out where anything was. Ayanira took advantage of the situation, and in seeing the mafioso screaming and covering his own two eyes, she ran and kicked the hell out of him with a flaming blue leg. Hakim fell to the floor, just in time to look her in the eye, and she fell to his powers. She tried to yell for help, but she wasn't able to anymore.

'You... disgrace of a human being! I gave you a Fruit! I gave you everything you are now! And you pay me back like this?' he yelled, his vest still emanating smoke from the burn she landed on him.

But a weapon hit the side of his face, and he dropped again. He felt the cold metal pressing him down by the back of his neck, and heard the Marine standing above him:

'She is who she is thanks to herself only,' he informed him proudly. 'And you could never take that away from her.'

Ayanira breathed in, relieved that she was able to move again. She could see the blood on Smoker's leg, but decided it wasn't time to worry. Panting, she smiled back at him, happy that they got the Big Bad out of the way once and for all.


	10. "You got a killer scene there, man..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Careful! There will be some highly explicit moments in this chapter. I let their relationship grow and flourish any way I thought felt right for them, but if for any reason you'd like to skip the detailed parts, be warned.

The room was boiling hot when she started to brush and polish the intricate, curvaceous designs of the back of a metal chair she had been working on. But she had never minded the heat. Several swords and metal shields hung from the walls, and she decided to sit back for a moment to breathe in, and let her designs cool off.

Taking her protective goggles off, she looked at a particular set of weapons she had been working on for the past few days. Certainly, she didn't still have a full grasp of its shapes, and even though simple-looking, it was a rather peculiar piece.

She cursed herself for having high expectations. The only time she had missed someone was when she and Daniyah broke up in the past, and she wasn't expecting said feeling to come back so early. Hell, she had only known him for a few days.

Although, somehow, they had forged a strong bond, right? Their differences drew them together, and wherever grounds they coincided on, they agreed keenly. Even under such circumstances.

But trying to craft a copy of his weapon wasn't solving anything, and they weren't even made of the same material. Grabbing all of the four pieces together, she tossed them into the forge and walked off to take a quick shower before dawn.

Once she walked up the stairs to her room, she plopped down on the mattress and looked up at the ceiling. Her father's leather jacket was still on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to hang it back where it belonged. But she had refused to bid farewell to these past days she had shared with Smoker. Out of curiosity, she took it and held it close to her face, only to find it smelling of cigar's smoke, just like he did.

'Creepy,' a voice said from the window, and she quickly turned her head to see him, floating there in the middle of the night.

'What the- what are you doing?' she stuttered, getting up from the bed and nearing the window. Smoker crossed the threshold of the window and stepped into her room silently. 'Someone could have seen you!'

'So what, you're still ashamed to be sharing your time with a Marine?' he inquired, inspecting the room. 'Nice pyjamas, though.'

'Thanks, buddy,' she showed off in her fresh shorts and floaty shirt. She had been making some money for the past few days, since she had been working harder as ever before. Loneliness made for a perfect productivity boost, sometimes. Back when she had a debt to pay, she used to stash her savings out of fear, but being freed of that responsibility, she started spending it like she never had. Living alone, nobody really realised the change in her. No one knew what she had been up to, and not even the Marines got to know about her when Smoker turned Hakim in. 'If you're looking for your coat, I just washed it. It was dusty as hell.'

'Mind you,' he muttered, crossing his arms before his chest. 'I've been walking around semi-nude for days now. I need it.'

'I thought you could get a new one, anyway,' she said with a smirk, and he grumbled in response.

'Not when this one isn't _actually_ lost, not really,' he explained, sighing shortly after. After a few seconds, he spoke again: 'He's been locked away. For good.'

Her eyes beamed in bliss, and she placed her hands over her heart in excitement. 'Really?'

'Really,' he went on, approaching her. 'He's been taken to a prison he can't escape. Besides, you were right: after thorough research, we found he had some Marines in his pockets.'

'I knew it...' she muttered.

'He won't escape that place. He and a bunch of his goons have been found guilty of some gruesome crimes, too. So he's facing full punishment: a lifelong sentence should be enough.'

She breathed in, relieved. For the first time in years, she finally felt emancipated. Free to walk around in any city in Alabasta, free to do her bidding in peace. She wouldn't have to burn anything, find some dangerously hidden relic or craft anything for him anymore. 

'Thank you,' she was grateful to having met him, truly. He snorted:

'It's fine. We did the right thing,' he answered, and they both fell silent again. Maybe it was time to discuss it, already. 'Hey, about that night on the boat, I-'

'Oh, don't mind it,' she raised her hands in an apology. 'I had been hitting on you so hard for days, I feel sorry that I pressured you into doing something.'

'Pressuring me...?' he tilted his head in disbelief. 'I wasn't going to say that. I am okay with what happened between us.'

She frowned, still trying to understand. 'You are...?'

'Yeah,' he insisted, his eyes fixated on her. 'You were right: it's not that complex of an issue. It's not even an issue, at all.'

Her brow creased even harder, and she tucked her hair behind her ears. 'But you were never responsive about my approaches. At first, I thought we were joking around, but then I realised I was the only one doing the jokes. You made me think about it, on that boat, too... before we started playing. I thought I annoyed you.'

'As a note, you're _kind_ of annoying,' he bantered, but switched to being serious quickly, as she was still visibly confused. 'But I like it. You can be at ease about it, now. I am not mad at you.'

'That's not really... what I expected. But you were drunk, that night. How can you know for sure it was what you wanted?'

'Because it's what I want _now_,' he answered, as he bent to kiss her once again. She leaned in to the touch with what felt like craving, and let her arms surround his neck like the last time. He tried to be more gentle, and felt grateful that they weren't drunk. Under the effects of alcohol, everything was number. But now they were both sober and fine.

'Unless you don't want to,' he clarified, still holding her in his arms. She laughed out loud, and resumed their kiss with passion.

They shared a few moments like that, their kiss echoing with the one they had back in the boat. But it felt more right, now. Carrying her in his arms, he placed her on the bed and knelt on top of her, just for her to roll him over. 'Not really a bottom, sweetie,' she told him as she got on top. Her thumbs went up his abdomen as she bit his neck, and he sighed as a result. Licking and kissing wherever she bit him, her tongue brushed past his earlobe, and he dug his fingers in her lower back under the feeling. The smell of argan filled his nose as he gave in to her, and he felt himself growing harder.

'You know, you're kinda hot for a cop,' she whispered to his ear.

'Shut up,' he snorted, and she began kissing every inch of his chest. He was already shirtless when he had arrived, so things were easy for her, so she took hers off:

'I want to feel you,' she explained. Then, she went back to him and licked one of his nipples, making him sigh harder. He never figured that's a thing one could do to him before, and the touch was pleasing indeed. Their bodies made sweet contact in the process.

Her lips kept descending further, her nails going up and down on his sides, and she bit his lower abdomen playfully. When her face met the limit, she started to unhook his belt, and took the remaining strap away, freeing her path. But he grabbed her under her arms and pulled her upwards, kissing her lips once again:

'Let me try, too,' he said, licking her collarbone and all the way up her neck, making her shiver. His hands caressed her back as he trailed kisses downwards, towards her breastbone, her chest going up and down in faint pants. His fingers stroked her, tracing their way from her spine to the base of her bust, and he started caressing the outer lines of her breasts. He then switched to kissing them both in the meanwhile, sticking his tongue out every once in a while. Her skin temperature kept growing higher, and he wondered if her Fruit had anything to do with it.

After a while, he kept advancing, his lips going down across her stomach, and he stopped for a moment to take her shorts off. She helped him in doing so between deep breaths, and then, he pushed her a bit upwards to stick his head between her legs.

He could already feel her warmth, but decided not to start off so quickly. Instead, he kissed her inner thighs, making her exhale a short, stronger breath. He took his time to lick and bite her softly, his hands still caressing her back in the meanwhile, and made her become impatient.

'Don't make me beg for it,' she managed to whisper, and he shook his head slightly.

'I won't.'

His kisses became longer and harder, and in the end, he reached the base of her legs, getting closer and closer. He then stayed near her, his warm breath on the inside of her legs, and she started shaking subtly.

Looking at her, he found that she was surprisingly humid already. Taking part of the stickiness away with his tongue, he swallowed and finally kissed her in the right spot. She whined softly with pleasure, and her hips moved downwards and closer to his face. He kept his kisses wet and soft, going up and down across her. With an upwards motion, he began to lick her slowly, and her breathing turned into low moaning.

'Please...' she whispered. 

"I'm on it, already", he thought of telling her, but he didn't want to stop right then. She kept her weigh from resting on him with care, but he really wouldn't mind the pressure. Her hands grabbed his, and guided them to her chest, so he complied by stroking her while he kept doing his thing. Her voice grew louder as he intensified the pace, and her legs were shaking in a way that made him think they wouldn't support her anymore. Still, she maintained her position. 

'A little... higher,' she asked for, and he narrowed down to licking her clit only. He could already feel her dripping on his chin and neck, and he found himself pulsating in arousal. His dick threatened to stick out of his unbuttoned pants, but he kept it in, barely visible from above.

On one hand, he wanted to ask if she was feeling okay with what he was doing, but on the other, he was keen on going on non-stop. Just as he thought so, she spoke again:

'I'm-'

Her muscles tightened in a small spasm, and now, her whole body shook in satisfaction. She bent forwards, but her hips stayed on top of his mouth, his licking growing softer and slower again. She seemed extremely sensitive at that time, and he didn't mean to hurt her. Her moans turned to breathing after a few seconds, and she felt every muscle inside her relax.

Once she was calm again, he pulled her back down and placed her on top of him. Their lips brushed together, but hers felt a little clumsier after her orgasm. They both grew quiet again, and he finally asked:

'Are you okay?'

She nodded and gave him a weak laugh, still trying to catch her breath. She took a few seconds, and after a brief last kiss, she resumed trying to go down on him. She was more than happy to find a thin trail of dense, transparent liquid coming out from him, and she pulled his pants down to see better.

Starting with her hands, she took the base of it and kissed his lower belly, his breathing getting deeper. She then began to slide her tongue up, all across his dick, and kissed the tip of it. But then, he lifted her chin up with one finger, and told her:

'You know, I don't really want to.'

'You don't?' she asked him, but he shook his head in response. She blinked and nodded twice, smiling in understanding. 'Can I stay on top of you, anyway?'

He moved her back up and held her in his arms with a long sigh. 'I'd love you to.'

Their lips met again, although this time, it felt more intimate, as if their encounter had brought them together a little more. They shared a few seconds in silence, but she could still feel his blood beating hard in his neck and between his legs. He was still hard, and his member kept pulsating upwards and against her lips. She gave him a questioning look as she started moving her hips slowly, rubbing herself against him, and he showed his agreement by holding her closer. He kissed her temple as she moved, but he tensed up in pleasure when she started breathing close to his ear.

She kept moving until he found himself soaking wet in her fluids, and grabbed her lower back unconsciously to accompany the motion. She looked him in the eyes again, seeking confirmation as she grabbed him. Then, she used her hand to slip him inside her.

He exhaled deeply, feeling her warmth around him, and she moaned once while diving him deeper. She stayed there for a few seconds, keeping him inside, and resumed her previous motion once again. She went up and down, aided by him, who was grabbing her hips firmly. One of her hands clutched the sheets beside his head, supporting part of her weight, and with the other, she held his jaw as she leaned over to kiss him. They held each other fervidly, and she got back up to gradually speed up. He sucked and bit her thumb, letting her set the rhythm, and one of his fingers traced all the way down from her neck to her clit. He started rubbing it carefully, and shivering hard, she had to stop for a moment to process the feeling.

She restarted moving, faster this time. He could feel her insides pulsating, growing tighter every few seconds, as if sucking him in. He wished he could stay like this forever, away from his thoughts, deep inside her. Feeling her thighs on him, her hair on his face.

With his free arm, he pushed her slightly and told her: 'You can lean on me.'

She obeyed, placing her hand on his chest, and continued for a while. They sighed and panted together, and after some time, he felt it coming.

She must have realised it somehow, since she sped up her pace and threw her head back, elongating her body. But he took her neck and brought her closer as he burst in pleasure, his back sending shivers through his pelvis. He really wanted to kiss her while he came, and did so sloppily in between heavy breaths. She stroked his cheek in the meanwhile, feeling him spasm harder inside her.

Eventually, they both grew tired and calm. She kept him inside her as they relaxed in unison, their skins radiating warmth to each other. He let out a last sigh, and she curled up on top of his chest, her arms around him. 'Sorry I grabbed you,' he apologised, and she laughed softly.

'I'm fine,' she reassured him, half her face resting between his pectorals. They had a moment's repose on the messy sheets for a few minutes until she asked him:

'Are you staying for the night?'

'The sun is already coming out,' he corrected her, and she pouted jokingly. 'I'm here,' he told her, and they dozed off into a deep slumber.

Smoker walked up the wooden walkway up to his ship, his crew members saluting him at his arrival. Tashigi stood on the deck, her eyes on him after saluting him too. 

'Are we ready, boss?' she asked him, a determined look in her face. He nodded and puffed on a couple cigars, crossing his arms and looking into the distance.

'We are.'

A few men weighed anchor, winding its heavy chain into a thick wooden pile, and the helmswoman saluted as he walked up to her. Tashigi hummed in confusion, looking at the back of his coat, and told him:

'Um... boss, there's something... weird written on your back.'

The Marine took a moment to realise what she meant. The wind howled, and the waters collided against the head of the ship. And, against all odds, he guffawed loudly and decided to correct it later on that day. 


End file.
